Padrone Di Tempo
by insanited
Summary: When Bella Swan is wisked away through time, trying to save her love - a human Edward - she accidentally sends herself six years back: into another dimension, another world, another Forks; and to someone she really didn't expect to meet. AU - not AH.
1. Amore

**A/N: **This idea came to me while reading _A Wrinkle In Time_. I got carried away, thinking about time travel, and a plot planted itself into my head: What if? If Bella lived in a world where there were no vampires and no werewolves, but she had the power to _bend time_? And what if, when trying to change the past in order to save Edward, she instead sends herself to another kind of Forks, Washington, where werewolves and vampires _do_ exist, just like in the books?  
This is not beta'd, seeing as I don't know anyone that _would._ And this is the only stuff I have down -- I have it all in my head, but only this first chapter on computer. I just want to know if I should _continue_. You'd have to wait a month or so though, because I'm busy with school and such. :(  
Also, I love the French language and had to put it in there, along with Italian -- but the latter serves a purpose... ;)  
Reviews are very much appreciated and motivating. So, read on, and tell me what you think! :D

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

Time is a strange thing.

I can bend it. I can twist it and break it. I can see it. I can feel it.

And I can change it.

I closed my eyes and shifted my mind away from his suffering, away from his screams of agony. I searched with my fingers for the right feeling — the correct _time_.

I grasped it tightly, ready.

Another scream and my focus was lost, my hand slipping. I fell and flailed, my fingers searching for a grip.

He yelled again — but not just a cry of pain — _my name_.

"Bella!"

Before I could open my eyes, my stomach plummeted to my feet as I knew it would and I soared, away from his pain, his torturer.

No matter what the cost, I would save him. This was the only way.

**I. AMORE**

Three years.

Three years ago I'd met him _for real_.

I'd known him for another few years before that, but three years ago was when I _really_ met him. _Him._ We were barely fourteen, starting our last year of good old middle school. He, the irresistible and simply adored Edward Masen — soccer star, amazing pianist . . . and millions of other achievements — and me, plain Bella Swan — the math geek, the science nerd. . . .

But that first day of eighth grade, we were forcefully stuck together as partners in our only class together — science. Both of us weren't too happy about it at first, and we kept to ourselves a _lot_ of the time . . . but then one day he'd needed help with a complex lab, and I'd agreed to help him indifferently.

After I'd helped him out — which he was amazed by, insultingly — he began to question me.

And it went from there. We grew closer, becoming the best of friends. Nobody could separate us. Nobody _wanted_ to. When we weren't in each others' presence, we were told we were glum and moody and uninterested in anything. It was obvious to everyone but us what was really meant to be.

Until I told him my hugest secret. It took me six months of talking to him, of getting closer to him, to work up the courage to just _tell_ him.

"_I am a bender of time . . . to put it less lamely, a Padrone — which comes from _padrone di tempo_, meaning, "master of time," in Italian — I can bend time itself. Literally."_

It was more complex than that, but that was as far as I'd gotten in that moment because Edward's green eyes had been the size of oranges. He hadn't believed a word I'd said. I figured he'd been expecting something more . . . serious, and realistic. . . .

"_What kind of_ idiot_ do you _take_ me for?"_ he'd demanded of me. I'd opened my mouth to speak, but nothing had come out. He'd stalked away before I could've given an answer, angry at me and confused and hurt.

He'd called me two hours afterward, waking me up in the late hours of the night, apologizing but still harshly confused, exigent for "the truth". I'd told him everything was true, and he'd asked me instead to come to his house and explain.

Thankfully he'd never been a fan of the upstairs bedroom in his home, because I'd had to sneak in through his window — and I still do on occasion.

The minute I'd climbed through the window, he'd leaped up from his bed and hugged me tightly to his chest, telling me he still wasn't sure of what I'd said, but that he believed I wouldn't lie about something like that. He would take it, no matter what it was, as long as I wouldn't _elaborate_.

So I showed him — I'd told him to stay, saying I would _fast forward_ five minutes into the future. He'd laughed, of course, but had responded with a, "Whatever you say, Bella."

What he wasn't prepared for was me disappearing into thin air.

I'd heard his yelp of surprise, but kept my hold on the spot of the time frame in my mind.

He'd told me that that was the longest five minutes of his life.

And then he'd kissed me.

A _bender of time_ was a rare thing in this world — in this _time_. Padrones could mostly be found in the past, without so much technology and pollution. I was one of the few residing in the 21st century, though I didn't know of any others that might have favored this century as I did.

And I didn't want to leave the ones I loved — especially after I'd found Edward.

To _bend time_, I close my eyes and follow, feel, climb my way to the time I want. And then I hold on for dear life. I slip into oblivion and then glide to that particular time-frame and emerge into the year or decade or century of my choosing.

There have been accidents of course, but nothing drastic — then again, those that have been drastic . . . those Padrones were probably never heard from again.

One always had to be careful and completely focused on their destination. It was believed that if one was to be distracted during the process, the outcome would be disastrous — and said impossible to reverse.

**--**

I sighed. "Edward?" I whispered.

"Hm," he responded, staring out the window of his bedroom. He lay on the floor, resting his head on his arm, and his hair was in his vibrant green eyes. I brushed it away.

"What time is it?" He chuckled, but didn't answer. Sitting up, he tugged on the end of my sweater.

"Sit with me," he said simply.

I scooted off his bed and over to him, and felt his arm embrace my shoulders. I grabbed his other hand, searching for his watch.

"Isabella." His voice was low, flat. "You of all people should know the _time_," he snorted.

"I know," I grumbled, "but where's the fun in that?" Instead of looking at his watch though, I intertwined our fingers tightly.

He raised an eyebrow. I sighed again, leaning my head against my shoulder.

"It's four in the morning."

"I know."

"Of course you do." His lips found my forehead. "You need to get home, Bella." His tone was full of grief.

"I don't want to," I breathed.

"I know." He squeezed me. "But I'll see you tomorrow."

"You mean later on today," I giggled. "Still, I see your point." I stared out at the moon through his window.

"I love you," he whispered into my ear. "I always have, and always will."

"I guess that explains why you spend all your free time with me," I joked. I slithered my free hand into his hair and turned my chin toward him.

When my lips were no more than an inch from his, I murmured, "Love you more."

He closed the distance just after the last word, and my heart pumped wildly.

I was a fool. He loved me more; he'd proven it on many occasions. When had I ever, _ever_ made it clear that I couldn't live without him? Had I ever emphasized my feelings for him, beyond those three simple words and the many heated _connections_ that passed between us?

_No_, I answered myself. I moaned and pulled my face away.

"What's wrong?" he immediately asked, worried. I stared at the ceiling — somehow I'd ended up flat on the floor, his body hovering over mine — avoiding his eyes.

"Nothing," I assured lamely. Before he could question further, I pulled him back down to meet his lips with a less than convincing smile.

He eagerly discarded his worry, moving his mouth with mine.

One way or another, I'd prove to him how much I loved him.

I just didn't know how to go about it.

--

Locking the driver's door of my Chevy, I turned and faced away from Forks High School. I gazed at the clear blue sky, shocked that such a nice day could occur here in a rainy, gloomy town like Forks, Washington. I got lost in the suns warmth and barely noticed the arms that snaked around my waste. A head perched on my shoulder, and a whisper came from its lips.

I jumped slightly.

"Now what is so interesting that you couldn't see me coming?" a lovely voice teased. I'd know that voice anywhere, any_time_.

I whipped my head to the side and gave Edward a chaste kiss.

"The sun's out," I said matter-of-factly. "You don't see it much, living here." My tone went sour.

I received a quiet laugh and a kiss to my jugular. "And who's fault is that?" I could hear the grin in his voice.

"Mine," I growled. "But, I wouldn't have met you if I'd never decided to come to this . . . _swamp_ you call a town." I made a face of disgust.

"And I'm glad you did." The grin was still there, and I would bet it had grown since my little complaint. "You have to admit though, you really like it here." His nose skimmed up my jar.

"Sure," I mumbled, unable to come up with anything more clever.

After a quick kiss, we headed out of the parking lot and into the school.

I didn't have any classes with him except French II and Trigonometry, which were at the end of the day. The other three were practically agony, even with friends to talk to. I tried to focus, but decided sleeping was the best way to making the time go by in Biology—I knew I would have received a laugh from Edward. "_Why bother waiting? Just _skip_ to lunch!"_ he'd joked once.

But I couldn't. My complex,'freaky powers' weren't _that_ simple.

Lunch was next, and then I could really start my day — with him.

Sleep evaded me, but my friend, Mike, couldn't take a hint.

"Hi, Bella!" he crowed cheerfully, oblivious to my morose mood.

"Hey," I said unenthusiastically, glaring at my clasped hands resting on the table.

"What's buggin' ya?" he pressured, slapping his Biology book onto our table. "Nice days not your thing or something?"

"Shut up, Mike."

"I was just askin'." But he sat next to me with a grin. I guess he was used to this.

At least he was entertaining. "What's this thingamajig?" he asked me at one point, gesturing with his pencil at something in his book.

I laughed. "A cephelapod. You should know that by now. We also learned this back in middle school."

"Er . . . I think I'll stick with 'thingamajig'," he stammered.

"Or maybe just think of it as an octopus?" I suggested.

"Is _that_ what it is?" His eyebrows skyrocketed.

Before I could answer, that bell rang and he bolted out the door with a, "Bye, Bella!" I shook my head. _Men_, I snorted mentally, and headed toward the cafeteria. _What's with them and food?_

Glancing around the lunchroom, I spotted Edward's bronze hair and my musings were cut short.

"What's on the menu?" I asked as I arrived at his table. The second I sat down next to him, his free arm wound itself around my waist. I rested my hand on his knee under the table and glanced at his food. It looked disgusting.

Regardless of its nasty appearance, he shoved in spoon-full after spoon-full into his _already_-full mouth. I made a face and gagged, getting a poke in my side in return.

"Don't you already _know_?" teased Alice, one of our most closest friends. Today she was sporting a trendy French bonnet, her short black hair tucked neatly under it. "Or do you need to rewind to me telling you yesterday to pack a lunch?"

I groaned — of course I'd forgotten! But I wouldn't _go back_ just to change a stupid decision like that.

"I'm fine. I'm not even hungry." At that moment, my stomach growled. Alice laughed, and I rolled my eyes, defeated.

"Here," she said, stretching across the table to hand me a brown paper sack. "I figured." She began searching the cafeteria for Jasper, trying to hide her smug smile.

"Thanks, Alice," I said gratefully, digging into my lunch. Before taking my first bite, I reached around Edward and stole one of his earphones.

"I love this song," I said with a smile.

I got a peck on the lips and a chuckled, "I love _you_," in my ear from him.

I kissed him again and rested my head against his neck, eating the banana from Alice slowly.

"You always beat me to it," I said abruptly.

"What is 'it', exactly?"

"'I love you.'"

"I love you, too," he said, a smile forming on his lips.

I met them with my own quickly. "No! I mean, you always say it first." I frowned. "I guess I never . . . know when it's the right moment."

He shook his head. "Anytime is the right time," he assured. I gave him a smile, and he winked.

"I love you," we said simultaneously, and then laughed.

He nuzzled my cheek. "With every fiber of my being," he whispered.

"Oh, cut the cheese," I scoffed. He smiled against my skin.

--

Breaking free of the school's doors, I made my way into the parking lot towards my truck.

I heard quiet footsteps behind me, and suddenly, I squealed, twisting away from the hand poking at my side.

"Emmett!" I cried breathlessly at the big, curly-haired man standing before me. "You know I'm horribly ticklish!" I received a dimpled grin and a gentle jab to my abs. I ran over to Edward, who was standing by his Volvo.

"Protect me," I giggled, hiding behind him, desperate. I peeked over his shoulder.

Emmett was gone. I sighed in relief.

Suddenly, Edward spun around, gripping me tight again his chest. His eyes bored into mine, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, stretching up onto my toes, hoping for a kiss. . . .

Right as his eyes began to close, I felt another poke, right on my spine. I jerked again, forward into Edward, and the action made me gasp. We were almost eye to eye, my feet dangling half a foot from the ground—

His lips crashed down on mine and he constricted his arms around me tighter, spinning us in circles. I laughed into his mouth and he took advantage of my open lips—

"Get a room, you two," laughed Rosalie, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. I broke away from Edward and glared at her. Her head was leaning on Emmett's shoulder, her blonde hair cascading down onto his chest.

Edward lowered me back to Earth and loosened his hold. "You are wonderful," he said, and his musical laughter filled my ears. I felt my cheeks warm.

He kissed my nose and laughed again. "_Vous me stupéfiez._"

I chuckled. _I_ amazed _him_? I scrunched my nose. "_Je t'aime_," I sneered.

"Ah, _français_," he sighed with a smile. "The language of love."


	2. Choc

**A/N:** I didn't really enjoy writing most this chapter.  
But I made time to. :D I hope I lived up to the first chapter.  
This was actually meant to be the third chapter, but I couldn't stay away from this one and write the second. It's still halfway done.  
And I'll end it at that. Enjoy! :)

* * *

**II. CHOC**

"_'The illusion of having already experienced something actually being experienced for the first time.'_ Can anyone tell me what this is called?"

I knew what it was. Apparently, so did Edward — he nudged my foot with his.

The last period of the day, though it was with him, was . . . interesting, to say in the least.

"Déjà vu," I mumbled.

"_Quoi?_"

"Déjà vu?" I repeated, unsure of myself.

"_Oui_; correct, _mademoiselle_! And in which language do you think that is?" Our teacher looked at me with wide eyes for the answer.

"Er, it's French, isn't it?"

"_Si!_ Indeed, Isabella, _il est en français_," she said gleefully with a smile. "_Monsieur_ Masen! Her probing eyes suddenly focused on him. "Do you know what 'déjà vu' means in _anglais_?"

He didn't stutter or hesitate. "'Already seen.'"

"_Si, si!_" she laughed. "_Bien, monsieur_._"_

Thankfully, the bell rang just then. We gathered our things and rushed toward the door with a hurried, "_Au revoir_!"

"That was interesting," said a baffled Jasper on his way out the door in front of us. He made his way over to Alice, who was waiting by the door to the parking lot. She gave us a wave as we passed, before wrapping her arms around Jasper, her hands running through his blond hair. I laughed lightly.

"Wait a minute," Edward said suddenly with a thoughtful look on his face. We descended the stairs. "Where . . . is your truck?"

"Oh," I remembered, "Charlie dropped me off today." I grimaced. "My truck hasn't had the best week."

"In the shop?"

I surrendered with a sigh. "Yes."

"Well, would you like a ride home?"

"You come over everyday anyway," I said with a grin. He grabbed my hand and we made our way towards the Volvo.

The ride to my house was quiet. Edward parked in Charlie's spot.

"Why do you think she suddenly started talking about it?" I asked when we got out of the car.

"Excuse me?" Edward asked, a little lost on what I was talking about.

"Déjà vu. She just . . . brought it up on the spot? I mean, it didn't seem to have anything to do with what we had been talking about earlier — "

"It's said that déjà vu can occur at any moment and to anyone — perhaps she was suddenly struck with it." He paused. "Or maybe she's just easily distracted," he mused with a laugh.

I chuckled and opened the door. "Wouldn't surprise me," I murmured.

"Me either," he agreed.

"It'd be nice if she'd get distracted and forget to give us homework."

"Now _that _. . . I think she's intent on remembering," Edward grumbled. He sat in the middle of my living room, sprawling out his French and Chemistry homework.

"What are you complaining about?" He always had it easy with all his work; he flew right on through it.

"What? She gives us a lot of homework!" he complained with a smile. He gestured to our assignment: Two pages out of the book, and only a few sentences — we just had to improvise.

"Oh yeah," I said sarcastically, "she's rough, isn't she?" I sat down next to him, starting on the math I hadn't finished in class.

It didn't take us too long to get through it all.

"What do you say we take a trip up to Port Angeles? We've got nothing better to do." A grin formed itself onto his lips.

"Do you think we'll be home late?" I wondered. I stared out my living room window; the sun hadn't yet begun to set.

"No," he said with a wave of his hand, "we'll get back before eight, I figure."

"Whatever you say. Let's go!" I hurried toward the door, abruptly impatient.

"Hold on there, turbo," he teased. "Aren't you going to leave your dad a note, or . . . ?"

"Oh! Right." I scribbled my sloppy scrawl onto a sticky-note and plastered it to the fridge, apologizing for leaving Charlie without dinner, what time we'd left, and when we'd probably be back.

"Great," Edward appraised, "now how about we get going?"

"Way ahead of you." I grabbed his hand and all but dragged him out the door.

--

By the time we reached Port Angeles, the sky was a faded pink and blue and it was freezing. My teeth started chattering the minute I stepped out of the Volvo.

"Here," said Edward, handing me his jacket. I slipped into it — it was soft and warm, and huge. I could barely find my hands so I could push the sleeves up and free them.

All he'd worn under it was a white t-shirt. I ran my hands up his chest and onto his shoulders.

"What about you?" I asked innocently. "Aren't you cold?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, sort of. . . ." His long arms wrapped around my waist, his hands resting on my sides.

I picked myself up onto my tip-toes and whispered into his ear, "Really." I kissed it and pulled on his lobe gently with my teeth.

He shivered. "I'm not cold," he said quietly. "Not anymore, at least."

"Good," I laughed. "I'd hate it if you were, because then . . . I'd feel guilty for taking your jacket."

He scoffed. "Do you know how many of my _shirts_ are in your top drawer?"

"That's besides the point."

"And what, exactly, is the point?" he inquired.

"I was just asking if you were cold or not!"

"Well, we got a little off subject, didn't we?"

I laughed again and kissed him. "So?"

"You confuse me," he admitted, his brow furrowed. He met his lips again with mine.

--

"I'm going to go check out this book store, Edward; it's across the street. I'll meet you over there — " I pointed to his car, " — in maybe fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Mm," he responded with a smile. "Take your time."

I kissed his cheek and headed out of the small music store, making my way across the lot. Right when I was about to reach the door, an elderly lady flipped over the open sign to closed and mouthed, "Sorry, honey."

I instead went into the next store over, a sort of shack with tons of baseball cards for sale — it held no interest to me. I turned on my heel and headed back through the parking lot.

Halfway across, I could see the Volvo, but I didn't see Edward in or anywhere around it. I decidedly started towards where we'd been earlier. He had the keys.

I felt . . . strange. Worried, in a way — but, I had no idea why. It confused me. I watched my feet as I walked, one in front of the other.

Suddenly, I heard a scream.

But . . . I knew that voice. . . . It was a wonderful voice, one I would know no matter where or when I was. But that beautiful voice was strangled in a horrible cry, a plea for help.

_Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no!_

I ran as fast as I could towards the sound. It was just around the corner from the little music store; a desolate and trashy street, from what I'd seen earlier. _Please, oh, please, no_, I pleaded to myself.

Another yell pierced the night — I just noticed, the sun had set. . . .

I was almost there, the end of the building was right up ahead. By then I was close enough to where I could make out words.

"Shut _up_!" a harsh voice ordered.

Suddenly, I tripped over the curb at the end of the parking lot; I hadn't seen it in my path. My hands shot out reflexively, my palms breaking the fall and skinning on the pavement; my shins made contact with the curb, making my knees buckle and crush onto the ground. I didn't even fully stand up before I took off again, whisking around the corner —

I froze.

_This isn't happening. It can't be happening._

"You bastards — " A punch to Edward's stomach. "Get off of me," he growled weakly through gritted teeth, trying to fight off the two men that had advanced on him.

_This can't be happening_, I thought again desperately.

"Edward! No, no, stop it! Don't!" My voice was hoarse, I couldn't breathe, they didn't hear me. "No!" I repeated. The other man punched Edward again in the stomach. He fell to his knees. "_Stop it!_"

My voice finally had volume and their attention. They let go of Edward to see who had intruded.

"_Edward!_" I ignored the man that was advancing toward me. My focus was on Edward and only Edward. I started running toward them again.

One of the two men stopped me, gripping me by the elbows, forcing my hands behind my back. "Edward!" I shouted again and again, fighting feebly against the iron arms that held mine.

"Just go! _Go!_ Get out of here, Bella — " His attacker — blond, by the looks of it, it was so dark here on this secluded street — aimed a kick at his face. I heard a horrible crunch and a quiet cry of pain.

I looked away, up into the face of the man restraining me. "Let go of me," I said, my voice deadly calm and serious.

He didn't even notice me speak, and I seethed.

"_Damn it! Let go!_" I screeched, thrusting the heel of my foot up, kicking and thrashing at him and leaning forward, trying to loosen his hold on me. He let go abruptly with a gasp of pain — my foot had made contact. I fell to the ground, probably bruising my knees even more and scraping my hands again on the pavement. I didn't care.

Tears streaming down my face, I looked to Edward, and our eyes locked. He mouthed, "I. Love. You," with a fierce look on his bloody face, and then —

"_GO!_" he shouted again. I was surprised by the strength of his voice. I shook my head, staring at him in horror, incapable of thinking of anything except him, lying there broken and helpless.

A sob escaped me. I started crawling toward him. The blond, I finally noticed, was done going through Edward's jean pockets.

I finally reached him, and I cradled his head in my arms. His eyes closed with the pain I'd accidentally inflicted. "Get out of here!" I sobbed at the man above me. "Leave! You got what you wanted. You hurt him — " I looked at Edward's face, softly caressing his cheek. He winced, but his eyes never left mine. "Just leave," I whispered brokenly to the man.

He glared at me.

"Bella," whispered Edward.

If only I could . . . fix this. . . . Change this. . . .

Why didn't I think of this _before_?

"I'll save you," I breathed. "It's going to be all right. I'm going to get rid of the pain. I love you." I kissed his crimson-stained forehead.

"No . . . no, no, no," he mumbled, almost incoherent.

"It'll be all right," I repeated.

Suddenly, the blond man was there again, staring at me. He took Edward out of my arms, shoving him into a standing position.

Then I saw a faint gleam — a knife.

_I can _fix_ this_, I thought. I closed my eyes and searched with my fingers for the right feeling — the correct _time_. I blocked out the screams that were ripping their way out of Edward's throat.

I grasped at the time tightly, concentrating. There was no going back now.

Edward yelled again, in shock. I heard a loud thud and rapid breathing next to me.

My focus was lost, and my hand slipped. I fell and flailed, my fingers searching for a grip. I grasped what I could, fighting.

Then the breathing was more quiet, but still there. Above me. The man must have shoved Edward up onto his feet again.

"Bella!" he said, his voice feeble but still, somehow, loud and strong.

Before I could open my eyes, my stomach plummeted to my feet as I knew it would and I soared, away from his pain, his torturer.

No matter what the cost, I'd save him. This was the only way.

But I didn't know _when_ I was going.

_When_ would I appear?

As I glided through the black, the nothingness, did something I seldom ever do: I prayed — prayed that it wasn't true when they said mistakes were irreversible. I prayed that it would be fixable, that it would turn out fine, that it would be simple and easy.

And as long as Edward was healthy and whole, I didn't care — nothing else mattered.

Suddenly, a dull light appeared and it got brighter, brighter, blindingly bright.

I opened my eyes.

I could see nothing.


	3. Sconcertare

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Twilight or any of its sequels, characters, etc. Property of Stephenie Meyer.  
It may spoil all four books in future chapters, but none (that I know of?) in this chapter or the previous ones.  
This is my _very first_ fanfic, and it is unbeta'd!

I feel awfully horrible for not updating like you wonderful reviewers asked. I wish I could write more often, because then I'd have chapters up more sooner than three weeks! _Jeez!_ I feel like a slacker.  
Another reason -- or two -- why this took so long to finally put up was _keeping it in character_ (the best I could)...and also, school and social life have kept me pretty busy, too.  
I haven't lost any reviewers, have I? I know how people usually forget about a story when it isn't updated every other day or week or so.  
So anyway, without further ado, here's chapter three! :D I really hope you all like it.

* * *

**III. SCONCERTARE**

I made my way through the trees silently, following the scent of deer that were a couple miles up ahead.

I preferred mountain lion, but this was satisfying enough.

Seconds later, I heard the herd of deer around a hundred feet in front of me, and I leaped up into the air.

_Gotcha._ A soprano laugh echoed in my head.

I snarled instinctively, colliding with my sister in mid-flight. She'd jumped out of a tree from up above and tackled me. We fell to the ground in a heap — nearly scaring the deer to death, we were so loud — my sister on top of me. Her short black hair was in my face, her cheek next to mine, her arms wrapped around my neck.

"Alice! _Why_ did you do that?"

"I missed you so much," she cried joyously. She pulled back and looked at me with a bright smile. It immediately flattened into a look of disappointment._ You look terrible._

"I feel terrible."

_You didn't need to leave._ "I wish you wouldn't have," she whispered.

I propped myself up onto my elbows, looking at her curiously. Way to get to the point.

"I know you were unhappy," she continued, "but still. . . ."

"Nothing would have made me feel any better, you know," I reminded Alice. Life was meaningless; a faint shadow of what I could have been, of what I shouldn't be.

But that was in the past. I couldn't change any of it.

"Tell me why you jumped me."

"I told you," she giggled.

"No. Why didn't you just wait until I got home?" I sighed quietly, knowing she'd already _seen_ me coming home, _seen_ me here hunting.

"Edward, I didn't tell them yet — "

I laughed at her. "I doubt that really helped. They'll know when you return — the scent. Or if we appear together." I shook my head in mock shame. "It's obvious."

_They all missed you, too. They really did._

"Thank you, Alice." She stood and pulled me to my feet, then wrapped her arms my waist. I hugged her tight. "That means a lot."

It really did. The guilt that had ridden me of _living_ for years . . . it affected them all; I couldn't bare to let them suffer any longer. I . . . left them, went to fend for myself, live for myself. I knew it hurt them, but I knew that it was better for my family to be without my constant suffering. I was a terrible creature — they needn't pick up on my self-loathing, too.

"Let's get going," I whispered, and we walked, my arm around her shoulders and hers still resting tightly on my waist, towards my earlier intention: The deer.

After my fill, I lied down and stared up at the gray sky, watching the dim clouds roll by above the heavy fog. Alice sat crossed-legged next to me while I hummed quietly to myself — a melody I'd played in a happier time. My fingers, clasped together in a double fist, twitched on my chest, moving the keys that we not there.

She jumped up and swayed, moving to the rhythm of my old piano concerto.

_Edward Cullen!_ sang Alice's voice in my mind, so sudden that I myself jumped. _Ready to go?_

"Very well. Show me the way." I sat up and gave her a smile. She darted to her left and let out a cackle.

_Come on, keep up!_

--

They'd moved to a desolate, rainy town in the north-western part of the state of Washington. So gray, but so perfect — for us.

The term "living dead" seemed more appealing than _vampire_ was. I was more of an empty shell regardless, very much unlike my family. But I imagined that even the zombie-like, fictitious beings could walk into the sun without causing some sort of chaos.

So I came to terms with this new town — _Forks_ — that my family now called home.

I sighed and continued to follow Alice. She was humming softly to herself, and I saw the lyrics to her melody flash at a hefty pace. I tried to pry them away from my own thoughts and focus on where we were going, but she practically blared them at top volume in my head. I watched the words flow by, feeling slightly mesmerized, and soon I was able to sing along to it with her in my mind.

Suddenly, there was a break in the trees, and I saw the gloriously white three-story home.

_Esme_, I decided. My 'mother' had always had a way with architecture.

My sister lead me to the front door, and, whispering almost silently, announced that I was home.

_Home._

"He's back!"

I was immediately bombarded with loud thoughts.

_Oh, Edward! Edward, I can't believe it. I set up your room, but I never knew. . . ._ Esme's was quiet but very _there_ in my head.

They were filing through the front door, pouring out onto the porch, looking down the stairs at me. I had to shut my eyes and sort through the shouts of greeting mentally in order to understand them.

_Edward, it's so wonderful to see you again._ Carlisle. So forgiving.

_About time_, came my 'brother' Emmett's booming voice in my mind. _I was wondering if I'd even get to see you this decade. . . ._

Rosalie's was also quiet._ I missed you._

And Jasper, peaceful and courteous. _Glad you're home, Edward. The silence was unnerving._ So he did like my piano concerto pieces . . . whenever it was that I rarely played them.

They were all jumbled together, blended into a harmony of welcoming.

But one stood out.

Alice. Because hers wasn't her voice — it was more like a moving picture. A vision, a sight into the near future.

I held my forefinger up to silence my family, concentrating . . . it had just started.

_Through Alice's eyes, I see a deserted street — off to the right, there's a small strip mall, but nothing of importance. What is important is what I see happening right before my — Alice's — eyes._

_The air shimmers, like a mirage or faint smoke, and fingers appear — out of thin air._

I gasped in the present, seeing only this bewildering sight.

_A hand emerges, and then an arm, and a foot, a leg, a torso — it's a woman, probably around my apparent age. The rest of her appears and her eyes widen a little at the sight she must be seeing: Alice, just standing there._

Perhaps I should go instead. . . .

_The future abruptly changes, and instead, the view is from the side: I see myself, half of my profile, just staring ahead into the alley; in front of my future self is the girl, and she is fully solid and visibly stiff. Instead of the mildly shocked look that forms its way onto her face as before, she sways and drops to the ground, fainting . . ._

_And then. . . ._

It just _stopped_. It became black. Over. Done. End.

_That hasn't been decided yet,_ Alice thought, almost fearfully. "I don't know what will happen." The fact worried her. Jasper gave her a worried look.

"I'm wearing these same clothes," I said, referring to my tattered jeans and torn blue t-shirt. "So that must be today," I continued, ignoring the looks from both Alice and the rest of my family: My sister, shaking her head furiously with a furrowed brow, and my family, all with matching frowns of confusion. "It was dark. . . ." I paused.

"Would _someone_ mind telling us what's going on?" Emmett was expressive. Obviously, they hadn't quite missed the silent conversations.

Alice beat me to the punch, her voice a little unsteady. "A girl . . . appearing out of the air, and Edward. . . ." She gave me a thoughtful glance. _I'm not sure you should go._

"Of course I should go! Did you see the reaction to me, versus to you? Even though that was more drastic, it still means something, and I think I _should_ — "

She cut off my furious outburst. "Please, Edward. This doesn't feel _wrong_, but it doesn't feel right either!"

"I should go," I repeated calmly. "I _must_ go."

"Then Alice and I are coming with you," interfered Jasper. I stared at him for a moment.

_I understand, brother,_ he consoled. _I'm not stopping you, but I'm not letting you go at it alone. This might be dangerous. For the girl_, he finished, confused.

I gave a curt nod and a small smile (which I figured was more of a grimace). "We leave at sunset," I declared.

Esme started to shake her head quickly. "Dear, wouldn't you like to see your room?" she asked. _I put all your music in it, all orderly on shelves like you used to have your CDs. I'd think there's quite a bit of dust, but —_

I cut her thought process off. Had they really _not_ gotten used to having a mind reader around? "Thank you so much." I walked up the stairs and wrapped my arms around her.

She hugged me back fiercely. _I missed you, son._

"I missed you too, Mom," I whispered in her ear.

--

The floor was covered with topaz-toned carpet, with a black leather couch at one end and several feet of shelves at the other — along with my stereo.

My room.

"This is amazing," I said in mild awe. "Thank you."

_Anything for you, dear._ Her thoughts made it hard for me to swallow. I didn't deserve this.

She left, leaving Alice and I to stare out the window that took up the entire opposite wall. I reached over to my stereo, finding a car key. Instantly, there was an image of a Volvo in my mind. I glanced over at Alice. "Brilliant," I said with a grin.

_Are you coming to school with us?_ she asked timidly.

My grin faded; I looked away from her. "I don't know," I confessed. I walked over to my CDs and knelt down, scanning through the bottom shelf, trying to ignore her.

"We should leave now."

That was abrupt. I pulled a CD out halfway, to mark my spot, and stood. She began singing Joy To the World in Spanish, pointedly still staring out the window.

"You've mixed up your holidays, Alice," I mused with a small smile. "It's October." She glanced at me, her lips quivering against a smile of her own. A sinister piano piece weaved through her head, the notes a blur. My fingers twitched involuntarily.

_I'm giving you five minutes. Or we leave without you. _She shot out my door with a threatening, _I mean it, Edward!_

I laughed a short, loud laugh. I'd catch the car before they would even hit the highway. "I'm coming," I said, pulling out a random CD from the shelf, and bolted through my open door. I tore down the stairs and into the living room, where Jasper and Alice were waiting.

"Are you sure about this?" Jasper's hand found my shoulder. "We don't . . . I mean, do we really. . . ." _Are you sure about this?_ he repeated silently, unsure.

I nodded faintly, leading him and Alice out the door. I pulled my key from my pocket and a second later, decidedly held it high above my head; Alice's hand swiped at the air. I shook it tauntingly.

"I drive." I smiled, she pouted. Jasper rolled his eyes with a smile mirroring my own and dragged her down the porch steps with him.

Following silently toward the garage, I twirled the key between my fingers, aching to play. I hadn't played my piano — _any_ piano — for years. I made a promise to myself: I'd write Esme something special when I got back. Notes and broken melodies instantly formed themselves in my mind's eye. My fingers twitched again.

_That's wonderful_, praised Alice._ I can't wait to hear it._

--

The drive was short — seeing as it was dark and I could hear an officer's thoughts from a mile away — I'd sped through the walls of trees and green, flashed by unaware drivers in their sluggish cars, and made it to Port Angeles in record time.

"Over there," Alice said quietly, pointing over to the right. There was a small strip mall, with 'FOR LEASE' signs covering the majority of the dark windows. I parked quickly on the side of the road, several feet from where the lot was.

I was anxious.

"Any minute, Edward," whispered Alice. Her eyes were fixed on an alley beside the mall, which ended with a small music store. It was on the other side of the lot from us. I fought the urge to sprint across it; I'd just need to wait.

"That's it," Jasper said. "Patience, brother." He placed a hand on my forearm, issuing a bit more patience on me. I relaxed almost immediately.

"Thank you," I said, staring intently at the dark alley ahead.

I felt Jasper tense beside me. _I feel . . . fear_, he thought worriedly. _I think it's her._

I didn't flinch; I just continued to stare, keeping my focus completely on where I knew she would appear. No more than a second later, a faint shimmer materialized where I knew it would.

Before I'd fully registered the sight, I was running — running as if my shallow existence depended on it — to that faint shimmer that was just then unyielding a small, graceful hand —

I halted twenty feet from the glistening air, which a leg and a forearm had already freed themselves from. I watched, completely hypnotized, as the small torso of a woman emerged from the haze. A face appeared, long brown hair along with it, and then —

"Catch her, Edward!" Alice's hushed gasp snapped me out of my daze. I darted forward as the now fully-solid girl's eyes rolled back into her head. She began to crumple, her knees giving out from underneath her. Her neck also gave out and her head lulled back. I caught it gently in one hand as I supported her weight with the other.

In random places, there glistened blood — mainly on a cheek, both hands, and patches on her front. I wanted to question myself why she was covered in . . . blood . . . which smelled faintly of _me_. . . . My blood? _MY BLOOD?_ This whole situation seemed impossible! But it was happening —

My eyes widened, and I opened my mouth — perhaps to gasp, or shout out my shock — but nothing came out. I was frozen, staring at the pretty, helpless girl that I cradled in my arms.

Her eyes opened slowly, and I found myself gazing into endless, chocolate brown eyes.

"Edward?" she questioned shakily, her voice a whisper, and reached a limp hand towards my face —

It hit me like a million needles, all directed at my throat. They were hot, burning, burning, burning, scorching.

Her _scent_. Her scent was like nothing I'd ever encountered. It had this . . . amazing, lavender and freesia tint to it. . . . And the faint smell of strawberries . . . it was _mouthwatering_.

My thoughts instantly became hazed and jumbled; I could no longer think anything coherent — this girl, this human, practically had my fate at her fingertips . . . fingertips which contained something I would have searched the world for, had I known such a scent existed. . . .

My own fingers curled into her hair, grasped at the hem of her shirt — _possessive_. Her hand continued to stretch toward my face. I barely resisted taking a snap at it.

Alice was instantly there at my side, grabbing the girl from my arms. I backed up, staring at them, my hands closing into tight fists. She grasped the girl in her arms and ran to the Volvo.

My already-wide eyes widened further and followed their movements. I bared my teeth, crouching into a stance, a growl tearing its way out of my chest.

_Control!_ Jasper shouted in my head. It was almost deafening. "Edward! Overpower your senses; don't allow them to overwhelm you." He wrapped both of his arms around me from behind, dragging me away. I snarled, but didn't fight back. He continue to mutter words of encouragement, of logic.

I fought myself internally, arguing with the monster inside me.

_Run. Attack. Feed._

I shouldn't attack the girl, no matter how appealing she smelled —

_Oh, but the _taste_! Imagine the taste. . . ._

No! I came here to save her —

_Until her scent hit you like a ton of bricks. . . ._

It continued on like that until Alice and the girl were in the Volvo and absolutely out of sight.

_Are you all right?_ Jasper's concerned voice interrupted my battle for control.

I hung my head, and my snarls ceased. I'd beat down the blood-thirsty creature and finally succeeded in overriding it. I sighed.

"Thanks, Jasper. I'm fine now . . . but I don't think I should go back . . ." I trailed off, unsure and panicky.

"No, I don't either. I'll run home with you," he promised.

_Edward? You're all right, aren't you? I saw what would have happened if I wouldn't have interceded. I hope you and Jasper make it home all right._ She gave a little laugh, and in my mind, I saw the girl in the passenger seat through Alice's eyes. _She's out cold_, she sighed. _I'll meet you at home._

"Alice says to have a nice trip," I said, half-heartedly bitter. Jasper let out a chuckle.

* * *

**A/N:** So, this'll be one of my longer chapters...I don't usually get so much in at once. But I like detail, and I remember SMeyer mentioning how "Edward overthinks _everything_" or something. I wanted to capture him as he is in the books. :)

**_And now for a little explination:_**  
This fic has to do with _time travel_ and exploring the AU retrospect. If any of you are Back To the Future fans, you might understand when I say that Bella accidentally sent herself to an alternate (and also, another demension of) Forks, Washington -- just like in the second Back To the Future, old Bill changes the past and creates an _alternate 1985_. Now, Bella didn't change anything -- as I said, she sent herself to another demension, where Forks and Edward and the rest of the Cullens exist, but they are vampires and have never met Bella (or have yet to -- I haven't thought that far ahead). So to answer a small question: In the first and second chapters, Edward is human -- that is this Bella's right time and place (which is in present day, 2008). When she goes to save him, she ends up six years back (where _vampire_ Edward has just rejoined his _vampire family_, whom of which had just moved to Forks (like in the books, actually)) in the alternative Forks!  
I hope I cleared up anything and everything. / I'm terrible at explinations. Also, I'd like to point out, since this is an AU, I made it so Edward never went back and rejoined his family (but he stuck to their diet).  
Sorry for repeating myself, if I did so! Haha. I'll try to have chapter four up in the next week or two, for whoever would like it. :)))


	4. Sicurezza

I'm glad to know you all enjoyed Edward's view on things.  
About time, eh? 23 days later! _Three_ weeks! Life is getting in the way again.  
Thanks for everyone's support. :)

Well I **disclaim**: _Twilight_ and its characters is property of Stephenie Meyer. Duh.

* * *

**IV. SICUREZZA**

I was _scared_.

I didn't know when I was going. I hoped that whenever I might end up, I'd still be able to fix my mistake and save my Edward. But I had this gut feeling that that probably wasn't the case.

My heart was _terrified_.

I almost wanted to cry, but where I was, that felt . . . impossible. I was a figment of nothing, seeing nothing, feeling nothing, except my own emotion. It was white, blindingly white, as if I were in a cage of mirrors with bright florescent lights beaming in every possible direction.

Making that comparison, a very small glow appeared ahead of me, darker than my surroundings. In the whole of five-odd seconds (more or less, time was broken here) it'd taken me to think and take in all this, I'd gone back in time.

So cliché! But very true.

I glided towards the glow, which had grown into a glistening, light blue haze about the size of a hand. I found my own hand at that moment, and stretched it out, releasing it into an unknown time — perhaps even place, if I'd gone far enough.

I hoped that, at least, no one would be around to see this. I wondered whether they would die from shock, or perhaps run away screaming. I couldn't choose between the two.

The dim light had expanded downward, and I heaved my foot into it as my hand went farther out. I inched my leg out more, losing my shin and thigh and hip in the process — I could no longer feel them.

At last I ducked my head and bent into the glow, and was met with an astonishing sight.

It was Edward! Oh, _Edward_. And he was okay! If anything, he was in perfect condition; nothing like when I'd left him in that alley. I let that thought register, and relief flooded through me. It made me feel dizzy. I tried to smile, but instead my eyes rolled back into my head, and I began to collapse.

While expecting the hard, cold pavement, the back of my head and my waist were instead met with cold, stiff hands. I fought against the fatigue and pried my eyes open.

His skin was so pale, whiter than I'd ever seen it. His hair was the same color, but longer — and I ached to reach a hand up and run my fingers through it. His jaw had that same, square shape to it, but it looked stronger; and his full lips were a faint pink-purple color, opened slightly in shock. His nose was flawlessly straight, much unlike the Edward's that I knew — his was a bit crooked (because in our sophomore year, he'd gotten kicked in the face by an over-excited soccer opponent). His cheekbones were much like his jaw, strong and prominent, and just like my Edward's.

But . . . I'd just reached his eyes. They weren't the green I remembered, the emeralds I'd always lost myself in . . . These were gold, molten topaz, and they were depthless.

"Edward?" My whisper trembled, giving away my fear. This wasn't Edward, and then it most definitely was him. It just . . . _wasn't_?

My hand moved of its own accord, like gravity was forcing it, toward his face.

His eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed, his mouth contorted; his face grew very stiff. His hands clenched tightly at the hem of my blouse and into my hair. His eyes bore into mine, and if he was like the Edward I knew . . . he was clearly in conflict.

I continued to reach for his face.

Suddenly, Alicewas there. _Alice?_ I wanted to cry again — this wasn't my Alice. She seemed the same, like this Edward, except she was _not_ the best friend that I had grown up with.

She took me away from Edward, and I almost whimpered. I looked up at her face, and, seeing the bright gold gazing steadily back at me, gave in to the black relief from this nightmare.

Before I fully succumbed, I heard a menacing growl — it was deadly, and beautiful, and strangely familiar.

--

". . . _I know now, just quite how, my life and love might still go on. In your heart, in your mind, I'll stay with you for all of time. . . ._ Oh good, you're awake." Alice turned the radio down and stopped singing, much to my disappointment — she was amazing, singing an octave above the lead singer's song.

"That song seems so old now," I sighed, staring out my window. Edward liked to consider that "our song," ever since eighth grade. I fought back a small laugh. It probably would have turned into a sob.

"What are you talking about?" Alice asked. I turned to look at her, expectant.

"It came out seven years ago — "

The widening of her eyes made my jaw clamp close. I knew that expression; she was beyond confused.

"It came out last year." I noticed that she wasn't watching the road. "What are you talking about?" she repeated.

I tried to answer her question, but then backtracked: _Last_ year? But then that would mean —

"What year is it, Ali — ?" I stopped myself before I could say her name. Obviously she did not know me. . . . I tried not to dwell on that fact.

She continued stared at me, and it was then that I remembered she hadn't been looking at the road since I'd first spoken. "Holy crow!" I shouted involuntarily. "Alice, watch the road!" I almost grabbed the wheel in my panic.

Her face slacked. "You know me?" she asked slowly, her eyes glued on my face.

"_Yes!_ I mean, _no_! I mean, _will you just watch the road_?" The volume of my voice had risen two octaves.

Instead, she slammed on the brakes. I would have flown into the windshield had she not flung her arm across my chest — hard; the gesture knocked me breathless.

"Who are you?"

I faced her with deliberate slowness. Who was this? This wasn't Alice . . . because if what she said was true, then it was the year 2002.

She should be eleven years old. But the girl in front of me was _my age_.

I couldn't breathe. I could barely see her face; black was clouding my vision. I felt dizzy again.

I felt a cold hand grasp my shoulder. "Breathe." Her quiet command brought me back to my senses.

"I'm Bella," I finally replied, almost wincing at the simplicity of my answer. "I can — er — travel through time." I grimaced at the impossibility and insanity of my words.

Her mouth opened in surprise, forming a small 'O' shape. She recovered quickly, and said, "Well, that explains things."

I did a double take. Her voice was shockingly calm.

Knowing Alice, she was just the opposite on the inside.

"Certain things, anyway," she continued, almost to herself. "Doesn't explain how you know me . . . but it does explain you coming out of thin air." Her eyes roamed my face. "How do you know my name?"

I sighed. "My best friend is Alice. Alice Brandon."

"What?" Her eyebrows rose.

"Mary Alice, but she doesn't care for her first name as much. She's been my best friend since we were six years old. She looks just like you, only her eyes are vibrant blue, and she's crazy about her boyfriend Jas — " I was babbling. I clamped my jaw closed again.

"Mary Alice . . . Brandon . . . that — that sounds familiar. . . . But I don't understand — "

I threw caution to the wind and decided to tell her everything. Flat out. "I live in the year 2008. I sent myself back, to try and save my boyfriend, Edward Masen — " Tears threatened to fall at the memory. ". . . Something went wrong, and instead of sending myself back a few hours to save him, I came out _here_. . . ." I trailed off with a gesture to our surroundings. "In 2002," I finished shakily.

"Edward . . . Masen?" she inquired.

"The love of my life," I said at once, feeling silly. But it was true.

She started. "That's impossible! That is in the _future_. . . . And Edward hasn't been a Masen since 1918. . . ." Her words baffled me. _1918?_

"I'm from the future, but not yours. It's my own time, _my_ present." This was getting hard to explain.

"So something went wrong?" she asked. I could hear the worry in her voice.

"Yes. And I'm not sure how to fix it. I've never . . . gone through this before. I don't know what to do. I don't know how to get back, because if I go forward, I'll just be ahead in your time." My head fell into my hands. I was going to break down if I didn't stop speaking; talking about this was hard. "I don't know what to do!" I repeated. The tears welled up in my eyes, threatening to spill over. "I have to save him."

"Edward isn't yours . . ." she said slowly.

"I know." My hands made my voice hard to understand.

"And I've never seen you before in my life. . . .

"But you _know_ us. You know our names, and — and _that_ happened. . . . I saw it. I don't believe you're lying — I just . . . I still find this very hard to understand." Her brow furrowed and she leaned her forehead against the steering wheel. "I don't know what to do either, Bella," she whispered.

"Oh, Alice," I moaned. A sob escaped through my lips; tears began to slowly fall down onto my fingers and palms and down my cheeks. I reluctantly pulled my hands from my face, and spoke brokenly to my window. "What if I can't get back? What if I do get back, and I can't save him? I _have_ to save him. If I don't. . . ." I let out a wail. "_I can't live without him._"

"Shh," she comforted, sitting up. Her hand rubbed my shoulder. "You'll work this out. _We'll_ all figure this out. Don't worry." She removed her hand and stared out the windshield.

After a couple minutes of silence, she finally spoke again. "They should be here soon." Abruptly, the car started and we made our way down a road canopied with trees.

"Where — where are we going?"

"Our home."

The trees flashed by at a dangerous blur. I rested my head in my hands and closed my eyes.

No more than a few minutes later, we again came to an abrupt halt. Alice's door opened, and, before it even closed, my own opened. I shook my head, confused; the loop through the years had really got to me, obviously. Staring at my feet, and with Alice's help, I slowly stood from the car.

I raised my eyes up to the astonishing three-story house in front of me. I think my jaw dropped at one point; I had to squint, because the light from the house illuminated brightly out of its windows — windows that took up its entire walls. What wasn't taken up by glass was gloriously white.

And at its front doors stood Edward, stiff and stunned. I wanted to run to him.

But he wasn't mine.

I collapsed to the ground, sobbing into my hands again.

Instantly, _he_ was there — crouched down and staring at me, a few feet away. I felt a small hand at my back, rubbing soothing rhythms of comfort. Then Alice spoke,

"We should get you inside, Bella," she murmured inches from my ear. I sniffed and nodded, but didn't stand.

"Here," came a deep, musical voice. It was familiar, so similar to Edward's. . . .

I sobbed harder as his hand found the crook of my elbow, lifting me lightly to my feet. He started to guide me along slowly, barely taking a step. I pulled away gently.

"N-no, it's o-kay," I stuttered through hiccups. I tried to calm my breathing as I wiped the tears from my eyes and cheeks. "I-I'm f-f-fine." My voice choked at the absurdity of my words, and I fought back a moan.

Alice hummed in dissatisfaction, but let me blunder along up the steps on my own anyway. She followed slightly behind on my left, and Edward was a little ahead on my right.

It took quite a bit of control, keeping my eyes off him.

He opened the door for me and offered to show me my room. I barely heard his words — his voice was overly captivating. It had a tinge of the tone I was used to, and that was enough.

I counted the stairs as we made our way to the top floor. _Thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight. . . ._ I kept myself as distracted as possible.

"Here we are," he said, and his voice so quite that it was almost inaudible. I barely heard his next words — though that might have also been due to the pounding in my ears.

"Bathroom . . ." he gestured to the door at the end of the hall. "Alice's room, my room . . ." he pointed to two doors at the opposite end. "And the kitchen is just downstairs," he muttered, "but say the word and we'll bring something for you." He opened the door to the room and left abruptly after showing me in. I waited a minute, just staring out the black window in silence, before running to large, beige sofa and breaking down onto it, letting everything overwhelm me.

* * *

Don't really care for the way I ended it, but oh well. I'll get to finishing chapter five whenever I can. Thanks for sticking with me!

(The song that Alice sings is Wherever You Will Go by The Calling -- it's a few years old, and I thought it was appropriate.)


	5. Spiegazione

Over _5,000 words_... I've never written this much, just for one chapter!  
I'd like to thank everyone who reviews, favorites, sets an alert, or just passes by and reads! You're motivating. Thank you for your support.  
I hope I live up to my previous updates. Enjoy. :)

* * *

**V. SPIEGAZIONE**

Images flashed by, blurry and unidentifiable, tinged red with the guilt that corrupted me. Some were a little easier to make out than others, but none were very clear. I knew they were probably just visions of Edward, whether from any of the times we spent together or that night —

I muffled a cry with the pillow that Alice had given me. Squeezing my eyes shut as tight as I could, I breathed in and out slowly, wallowing in the pain and regret.

_What if I couldn't get back to him?_

I'd asked this to myself countless times throughout the night. Dwelling on that thought had gotten me no sleep whatsoever, and trying to answer it did anything but help me dream.

I opened my eyes and sat up, decidedly choosing to stare out the window.

After blinking a few times at the daylight, I finally focused on the outside: A small clearing, full of tall grass and wildflowers and surrounded by evergreens.

I lay back down, pulling my blanket over my head.

I'd never heard about this sort of thing happening before — not only did I travel in time, but . . . I was sometime else _entirely_. I knew I was right when I'd told Alice I couldn't just "fix" it — that if I did go ahead, it'd be ahead in her time, where no Edward _Masen_ or Alice _Brandon_ existed. . . .

What about my _other_ friends? Emmett, Rosalie, Jasper . . . And my _father_? Would there be another Charlie Swan on the force in _this_ Forks?

My head began to pound, and I rolled over until my face was pressed hard against the back of the soft couch.

I had to do something — _try_ something! If there were any way to get back to him, I had to find it as soon as I could —

But then, even if I did flow to the correct time, who's to say I'd get there _in_ time? In time to stop him — us — from leaving my home and going for a drive? If only we'd stayed together; if only we'd changed our minds at the last minute and drove home; if only we'd never left in the first place.

If, if, if! If I hadn't broke down when I saw him hurt, I could have gone back right then; if I hadn't told him I'd save him, I wouldn't be haunted by the fear in his eyes my words had caused.

If I hadn't, _if I hadn't_!

I scrunched my eyes tightly closed again, torturing myself with the retention of the night before.

_Bella! _The memory of his voice tore at my heart.

I remembered, right after he'd yelled —

Oh, _no_: I'd slipped. I had lost my concentration; lost the time I'd found. Somehow . . .

_That_ was what sent me here! What ever it was that I had gripped on after I'd fallen from the time I'd already had . . . it was this period of time.

_What this repairable?_

Another question that I couldn't answer. I wanted to scream in frustration, but I didn't want _them_ to hear me.

Because they hear everything. At least, _Alice_ does.

Earlier that night, while thinking, and trying to sleep, and shivering, she had come in with a blanket and pillow. I swear, she must have heard the clatter of my teeth chattering just seconds before that. . . .

And she would probably hear my muffled scream and come to ask what she could do, what I would like, just like she had a few hours ago when I'd begun to whine in obstruction.

I wish I had more control over my emotions; I was such a wreck.

With a violent kick, I threw off my covers and sat up once again. I swung my legs around and felt my feet touch soft carpet — it was an off-white sort of color. I raised my gaze up to the walls, which were whiter than the floor, and stared intently at the painting across from me.

Its height was probably just a foot shorter than I was tall, and then its width was just half of that. The frame was jet black and simple, without many grooves or decoration.

But what really interested me was the artwork it held.

Just two hands, reaching for each other. It was as simple as the frame, just black and white and pencil. It reminded me of Michelangelo's _The Creation of Adam_.

After a minute or two of staring at it, I stood up, stretching.

Seconds later there was a knock at my door, and Alice came in.

"Hello, Bella," she sang. "Would you like some breakfast? I . . . _think_ I could make you anything you'd like." She smiled.

I didn't miss the slight hesitation, but I waved it off. "A bowl of cereal would be fine, thanks."

I followed her out the door and down the flight of stairs, into the kitchen.

It wasn't just your average kitchen either — it seemed fancier than any I'd ever seen . . . It seemed like the kind you'd see behind the kitchen doors of a five-star restaurant.

"Wow," I breathed. I sat down at the island and propped up my elbows, resting my head in my hands.

Alice wore a curious smile as she sat down opposite of me. She set down a box of Cheerios, a bowl with a spoon, and a carton of milk. "Do you like it? Esme is all about this sort of thing — "

"Is Esme your mother?"

"Yes," she answered, and her smile grew. "She also designed the entire house from scratch . . ."

_House?_ I scoffed._ More like a mansion._ She handed me the bowl of cereal. I dived in immediately.

". . . And then there's Carlisle and his office, it's remarkable, really . . ."

I let her prattle on while I scarfed down my breakfast. I began to choke when she mentioned Emmett and Rosalie —

"Who?" I asked hoarsely, after Alice had all but helped me recover — her gentle, almost careful pats on my back didn't do much.

"Emmett and Rosalie," she said slowly. "They're my . . . adopted siblings." Her smile seemed almost forced, but it was genuine enough.

Then it sort of flattened out when she saw the look on my face. "Bella?"

I sputtered out an unintelligible, "What?" and tried to calm myself.

So it wasn't just Edward and Alice . . . Rosalie and Emmett, too . . .

_And Jasper?_ I wondered.

"Is everything all right?" she asked quietly. "Did I say something . . . wrong?"

"No, no, you were fine. I was just . . . surprised." I brought my hands to my temples and massaged them, closed my eyes, and thought for a second.

What was it about them? All five of them were here, all of my best friends — but they didn't know me, and they were so different!

What had I gotten myself in to?

"Oh . . . oh." She faltered. "I'm — sorry. Did you . . . do you — ?"

"Yes, I know them," I answered, knowing what she was asking.

Her brow furrowed. "Who else?"

"Jasper."

Her eyes widened with surprise. "Really? Wow. . . ."

"Yeah. Jasper Whitlock — "

She gave a quiet little "oh" of shock. I pretended to ignore it and continued on.

" — and Emmett McCarty are — are Edward's best friends, and I've known their girlfriends for _years_. So we're all almost like family. We did — we _do_ everything together." My voice had gone feeble and quiet towards the end.

"Who are their girlfriends?" She sounded like she hadn't wanted to ask the question; her surprise and mild shock had dimmed down to nonchalant interest.

"Remember my friend . . . that I was talking about? Her and — and Jas are pretty serious." I eyed her warily, but she looked at me with the same, indifferent expression. "Then Rose and Em, oh, they're something, all right. It's a wonder they tease me and Edward — " I cut myself off, feeling a slight pain in my chest when talking about _us_.

"I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I didn't mean to pry. . . ."

I shook my head, contradicting her. "No, it's fine, really. I just . . . ," I trailed off, staring out the window above the kitchen sink.

"He'll be back soon, you know."

"Who will be back soon?" I inquired, confused.

It took her a moment to answer. "Edward." She paused. "But, I don't know if he's up for talking quite yet . . . He's more than confused with the entire situation — "

"He doesn't need to talk to me or anything," I said glumly. "I understand."

"He was the one that insisted on coming . . . Well, I think he should still talk to you," she said quickly.

Insisted on coming where? "Wait, what were you talking — "

"Never mind. So! Your best friend . . . is with Jasper?" She _giggled_.

I answered stiffly. "Yes."

"Oh, this is so strange!" she cried, looking up at the kitchen ceiling with an exasperated expression. "I knew this was an extraordinary universe, but this . . . this just baffles me." She clasped her hands together on the counter and lowered her gaze to stare at them. "People . . . in your time — "

"Dimension," I interrupted dully with a shrug.

"'Dimension' then," she said almost cheerily. "Well, they're here, too. But are we the same? Is there another _you_ here, too?" She breathed in a little gasp, and unclasped her hands and placed her fingertips together. "This . . . is . . . so _interesting_." Her voice was that of mild awe.

"Yes, I know, Alice; it's weird for all of us," I said sourly, "but please, stop distracting me. Why had . . . Edward insisted on coming?"

She winced — I figured she had hoped she would get away with changing the subject.

_Not likely, Alice._

"Er — saving you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Saving me?" It came out flat and sarcastic. "From what?" I hadn't needed saving, really.

"Right," she muttered. "Right. Um . . . see, we — well, actually, I saw something — and I told him, but . . . How do I explain — "

"You're killing me, Alice. Please, just let it out."

She breathed in heavily and let out a fast, deep sigh. "Right," she said again. She waited a moment before she spoke again; my impatience rose. "Let's just wait for Edward to get home, shall we? It would be easier if he were here."

I huffed in mild annoyance and agreed with a halfhearted shrug. "I'm going to lie down." It sounded like a question.

"Sure. Okay, Bella. I'll — I'll let you know when he's back."

I was already halfway up the stairs. "Thanks," I said lamely.

--

My surroundings were pitch black except for the eerie, red glow in front of me. Without thinking or caring, I reached for it.

Before I touched it, I froze — because of the intense instinct feeling that had suddenly overwhelmed me — and I turned on the spot.

Before me was the pale, perfect Edward.

But then, he wasn't necessarily the _same_. He had dark circles under his eyes — and his eyes . . . they were black.

And _sinister_.

He sauntered toward me slowly, smiling in a not-so-friendly way — his incisors gleamed, long and sharp —

I tried to back away, but I immediately found a wall at my back — trapped, and I could see no way out. There was just him; no more red glow; completely black.

I screamed and thrashed, and suddenly I could feel that I was lying down on something soft.

I cut off the short, piercing scream, and sat up in the dark, which was barely illuminated by the crescent moon's faint light through the window.

Trying to calm my racing heart, I followed the silver stream of light — from the window, then over the end of the couch, and across the floor.

I caught something in the corner of my eye and whipped my head, straining my eyes to see whatever it was.

My nightmare, seemingly, was _real_.

But I fought back the second scream in my throat, because this Edward held up his hands immediately and gave me a short, reassuring, "It's okay." I nodded, and to my surprise, he walked over to sit on the end of the couch.

"I'm sorry," we said simultaneously.

"No, really, it was just a silly nightmare," I said shakily, remembering the way he'd approached me in my dream. _Just a dream_, I reminded myself again, though weakly. "Sorry for screaming." I offered a small smile.

"I shouldn't have been here, regardless. I apologize for scaring you." He flashed a crooked grin at me, and my breath caught in my throat. I looked at the floor, trying to distract myself.

"Um . . ." I began, but then thought better of the question. I decided on another. "Did you just get back?"

His brow furrowed slightly, but he answered with a calm, "Yes." He looked like he wasn't breathing.

"Oh."

"Would you like to meet my parents?" he asked abruptly. I raised my eyebrows and nodded. This reminded me of the Edward I knew: whenever he would want to avoid something, he'd try to stall and change the subject as soon as possible.

With another soft smile, he stood up, offering a hand. I took it hesitantly and let him pull me to my feet. He let go quickly and lead the way out the bedroom door.

I marveled at the warmth that surged through me at his cold touch.

We descended the stairs all the way to the ground floor, where, to my ever-escalating astonishment, I found a grand piano — I must have missed it last night . . . or the night before last. I couldn't really place which was which.

I broke my gaze from the platformed piano and met it with Edward and Alice's parents —

My jaw almost dropped: They couldn't be a mother and father! Of seventeen year-olds!

They were impossibly beautiful, just as Alice and Edward were, but they . . . there was an elegance about his mother, Esme, that reminded me of those old, silent films, with her soft, round face and her caramel colored hair; and with his father, I was reminded of the old English portraits I'd seen from Shakespeare's time, though he was more movie-star-worthy than anything, with light blond hair and prominent features. They both smiled gently at me, their arms linked.

While I silently gaped, Edward introduced them. "Carlisle, Esme," he said quietly, "this is Bella."

Then didn't move, but their smiles widened. "It's very nice to meet you," Esme said kindly. "After all you've been through . . . you're a strong girl, Bella." She released herself from Carlisle and walked towards me with deliberate slowness until she was within arms reach, and then she hugged me. I returned the hug instantly, wallowing in the human contact.

Carlisle followed his wife, and after she released me, he shook my hand tenderly. "You're welcome here, Bella — anything you need," he promised.

"Thank you," I said with a watery smile. I looked at Edward, who was staring at me with another one of his conflicted expressions.

It was in between bewilderment and satisfaction. I ducked my head hesitantly, a little embarrassed. He reached out a hand to my shoulder, but then thought better of it and let it fall back to his side, much to my disappointment.

I missed _him_ so much. And though he wasn't quite _him_, I still wished I could talk to him . . . that he would talk to me.

"Hello, Bella," sang a silvery voice — Alice was suddenly at my side. "Would you like . . . to meet Jasper?"

"Oh. Yes, I'd love to," I answered after a moment. I saw her look at Edward, and I whipped my head around to him. I barely caught the look on his face, but still got the gist of it — he'd given her one of his warning looks.

And I knew that look.

It said, _Watch it._

I looked to Alice, confused. She acted as if nothing had happened and lead me somewhat cheerfully to the staircase, where, at the bottom, as if he had appeared out of nowhere, Jasper stood.

We didn't get very close, and I wondered why — the Jasper I knew was like a brother to me. Even though I didn't know him, why should it matter . . . ?

_But of course it does_, I reminded myself grimly.

"Great to finally meet you, Bella," he murmured. "I'm sorry that I don't know you like you know me — "

I let out a squeak of surprise.

" — but rest assured that I know what you're going through." He finished in an almost mournful tone.

I stood there, silent, just staring at him. Thankful; touched.

"Jas . . . I think Bella should get more sleep," piped in Alice. "She hasn't gotten much. Do you mind?"

"Not at all," he answered, though I thought the question was directed at me.

Suddenly, I felt a heavy, deep fog of lethargy wash over me. I blinked slowly against it, against the black that was clouding my vision, feeling utterly —

"I know you're confused" — Jasper was speaking to me — "but hopefully you'll understand once we can explain. And I promise, that will be soon. For now, just take a rest."

I tried to nod, but I couldn't feel anything. Instead, I gave in to the comforting abyss.

--

I didn't open my eyes when I woke — I was still relishing the dreamless sleep I had. I stretched, still with closed eyes, and sat up with a yawn.

When I finally opened them, I gave a little yelp of shock; Edward was sitting at the end of the couch again, his hands clasped together and his head turned towards me. His face was stiff and he looked like he was holding his breath.

He'd probably carried me up here . . . and had been staring at me. While I slept.

"Sorry," he said shortly, fighting back a smile — his lips quivered.

I blushed in embarrassment.

His jaw instantly went tight and in the same moment, Alice knocked on the door with an innocent (yet transparent), "Is Bella awake yet?"

Edward didn't reply. I grumbled and pushed the blankets off my legs with fixed movements, taking my time. "Mm," I answered, swinging my legs over so that my feet touched the floor.

She bounded into the room and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch. Edward and I stared at her.

Then suddenly, he snapped out a snarl — I head his teeth clank together and the growl scrape out of his throat.

I turned to him, perplexed. He was still staring at Alice — with that warning look again, only it said,

_Don't. You. Dare._

Don't she dare what?

"What is it?" I asked her. "What doesn't he want you to say? Or do?"

He looked at me sharply, but then turned his gaze back to her — she cocked her head to the side, and opened her mouth to answer, but —

Edward spoke before she could. "No," he said roughly in another growl. "Can't it wait?" I frowned at him.

Well, didn't I deserve to know?

Or . . . was it that I really, truly didn't? Maybe they couldn't, or shouldn't, disclose whatever it was.

"If it's something you _shouldn't_ tell me," I muttered, "then please, don't bother." I looked at my feet.

I saw, out of the corner of my eye, him look again at me. I didn't flinch, but continued to look indifferently at my own feet.

Then I saw Alice stand. She walked over to me and put cold, and impossibly hard, hands on my shoulders.

"Bella." She seemed almost contrite — her voice was morose. "I know you've been through _so much_, and I know that it's difficult, but please promise me something first: believe what I'm going to tell you." She stared hard into my eyes, narrowing them.

I nodded suspiciously, but knew that she wouldn't lie to me.

"We are immortal."

I gave a small scoff, and with raised eyebrows, gave her a doubtful look. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"Vampires." The word came out slowly and forcefully from Edward's mouth.

I frowned deeply, trying to take it in.

_Vampires?_

They had to be toying with me.

But then . . . what wasn't believable?

I decided right then that I fully and completely believed Alice.

"Okay," I accepted easily with a nod, trying to compose myself the best I could. "Go on."

She balked. "And that's it?"

"No running, no screaming? No questions? No — "

I interrupted Edward with a little laugh. "It's . . . okay," I repeated. "I understand. I mean, look at me," I gestured. He smirked and Alice gave me a quick grin. "I can bend through _time_," I mocked myself. "Do I really have any right to say something is 'impossible'?"

They laughed, and I found myself chortling along. "Well, say whatever you have to say, and then I'll ask questions after. . . . If that's all right," I added hastily.

Alice was suddenly standing in front of me again, and she hugged me. "Of course — ask all the questions you'd like. Nobody will stop you; you deserve to know." She smiled pointedly at Edward, who stuck out his chin as if to say, "_What?_"

My heart swelled a little.

Just like my Alice.

She fully released me and sat again on the floor before Edward and I.

"Vampires are immortal," she started out slowly, watching my reaction — I kept my composure, "and if you think about it — "

My jaw dropped a little. "How old are you two?" I cut in, and looked to Edward with wide, curious eyes.

He titled his head to the side and said, "Seventeen," while she answered, "I _think_ nineteen."

I gawked. "Aren't _you_ seventeen?" I inquired, fixing my gaze on Alice.

"I'm not sure," she said simply. "Well, actually . . . ," she giggled, "I'm a little older than that, up here." She tapped her head.

"So . . . you weren't born in the 80s?"

"Goodness, no!" she laughed with a shudder.

"What have you got against the decade?" I asked in, feigning suspicion.

She shivered again; with a scrunched-up nose, she answered, "They had _no_ sense of style."

"Well, what decade _were _you born in?"

Edward piped in. "Both Alice and I were . . . born in the _early_ twentieth century."

My jaw dropped all the way. "Oh!" I gasped breathlessly. "Wow. Oh, my. That would make you — "

"About a hundred and one years old, yes," he chuckled, though his face was still stiff.

I looked at him with a pleading, confused look. "1901?" I summed up. "Then why do you look seventeen?" My voice was high-pitched.

"Because, at the age of seventeen, I caught a horrible disease — one that had cost my mother and father their lives — and Carlisle saved me, by transforming me into a . . . vampire.

"Then — Carlisle figures — a few years later, Alice was turned."

"But I don't remember anything — who it was that changed _me_ or who _I_ was before, except my name," she said with a sad smile.

I felt awful. "I'm sorry, Ali," I whispered.

"It's okay," she said happily, though the sad smile still remained.

"And at whatever age you are transformed, you look, too. We're sort of . . . frozen."

I thought through this and asked, "What if I were to become a vampire? Would I stay the way I am, how I am, right now?"

I didn't miss the hiss that came out of Edward's lips, or the baring of his teeth, _or_ the way his hands clenched into fists.

Alice kept herself in check, though her tone wasn't exactly approving. "Yes, you would — your appearance would change a little, making everything more prominent — but you would also crave . . . ," she trailed off, giving me an apologetic frown.

Vampires . . . drink blood.

"Oh," I whispered. "But you — I'm still — I mean, nothing has happened — "

Edward shifted in his spot at my words. "Well, there have been a few close calls," he murmured.

"A few? Ha! If I hadn't been here, you would have killed her that night when she came out of thin air." Alice glared at him. "You are lucky I can see this girl." She tapped her temple with her forefinger.

"You've — you've come close to killing me . . . ? More than a few times?"

"It crosses my mind every minute or two, to be honest."

I gulped.

"I assure you, though, Bella, that I don't want to hurt you." His tone was of the utmost sincerity. "You see, as vampires, we also have extreme senses — I can smell you from here." He made a face.

I blushed. Did I really smell that bad?

His jaw tightened once again, and I immediately apologized.

"No, no, that's _just_ it, don't you see? You're only human, and you smell absolutely mouthwatering. It isn't your fault — now with me, and Alice too, we are very, _very_ strong. It takes every ounce of my control, and I am all right with that."

"You're . . . strong?"

"And fast." Suddenly, he was blur, running out the bedroom door. And then he was back in that same second, perched on the couch, and he had a —

"A spoon? Edward! That isn't going to convince her of anything," scolded Alice. "Plus, that's a good one, from Esme's favorite set — though I know we don't use any of them — and she will still be upset — "

He showed me the spoon, lying in his hand.

And then he closed his hand into a fist, making it contract a little.

When he opened it again, all I saw was gray sand.

I was speechless. _Wow. _This was almost too much.

"Edward!" scoffed Alice, too late.

He laughed guiltily. "She'll understand."

So, they were vampires. . . . _And the rest of their family, too?_ I wondered. I closed my eyes, trying to accept it. Accept that they hadn't aged for eighty-odd years . . . that they _craved_ my _blood_ . . . that —

"Edward," I said with difficulty, "that night, when you caught me, coming out from my time, wasn't I . . . wasn't I covered in blood?" My voice shook a little, thanks to the memory.

He nodded solemnly. "Alice got it all off of you, though before you woke in the car."

"It was _my_ Edward's blood."

He flinched; his eyes widened. "I knew it . . . that there was something — it was so familiar . . . and then you — reached toward me and I caught your scent and — then that was when I tried — wanted to kill you." His voice was bleak.

"I understand, Edward. And I'm sorry — for coming, for corrupting everything — I wish I could just fix it. But I don't know how."

"What do you mean?"

I bit my lip. He looked at my mouth for a moment, and then raised his eyes to mine when I started to speak again. "Well, I know what happened — how I got here, instead of when I wanted to go. . . ." I told him and Alice about that night, and how I'd lost my grip on the original time.

"Oh, no," muttered Alice. "I'm sorry, Bella."

"Worst problem is, the entire dimension switch seems irreversible at the moment. And I'm scared to try, because I don't know when I'll turn out, what time I'll emerge in." I sighed. "It's so frustrating!"

Alice moved, and it seemed like she was going to say something but —

Her eyes glazed over and she froze on the spot.

"Um. Alice?"

"Shh," said Edward. He still looked at her intensely, but again with a different expression.

_Concentration._

What was with these two?

I sat, trying to wait patiently, but failed — I tapped my foot, bit on a nail, and drummed my fingers until finally, after probably just two minutes, she snapped out of it.

"What just happened?" I asked slowly, annoyed at the amount of questions that had already issued from my mouth — I bet if I were to backtrack and count, I'd find over a dozen. I looked back and forth between the two: Alice wouldn't look at me, her eyes were downcast, and her lips were puckered, like they were when she wasn't sure what to do; Edward's jaw was again tense and locked, but he was _angry_ this time — and there was also this slight fearful look about him, too.

"Nothing," she said all too chastely. "Nothing, I just — just got caught up in thought, that's all."

I squinted at her. "There's something you're not telling me."

She rose her eyebrows; he looked curious. "How do you know?" he asked.

I crossed my arms. So I _was_ right. "Because I know Alice: when she says 'nothing' like that, then it's definitely _something_."


	6. Preveggenza

I'll keep it short and sweet: I am SO sorry for the outrageously late update. No excuses either.  
Though I'd like to point out that I will [hopefully] be able to update even more often thanks to my new laptop.  
Hope you all have/had a Happy New Year; and enjoy! This chapter was written whilst caving in to a bout of insomnia. Fun, fun, fun.

* * *

**VI. PREVEGGENZA**

"Because I know Alice," explained Bella. "When she says 'nothing' like that, then it's definitely _something_."

To say I was shocked would be a mild understatement.

There was more to it: confusion, and surprise . . .

Indeed, 'shock' clearly didn't quite cover it.

I studied the girl from the few feet away I was. Her determined look made me wary.

Not that I didn't believe her. Or that I wasn't sure of her.

But because she was absolutely right. . . .

And it was_ because_ of that fact that I took her life into perspective for that small moment. She knew us. We may have been different . . . alter-egos, perhaps, to those of whom who she loved . . . but all the same, it was Alice and I, and probably the rest of my vampire family, that she knew best of all.

I thought about it -- came to the conclusion.

_We_ were her family.

I felt a strange, strong sense of pity -- no, _sorrow_ -- at the thought. What if it were as impossible as it seemed to be, to return to her friends? And would she, perhaps, be forced to stay in this odd dimension with cold, almost shadow-like reincarnations of the people that she knew and loved?

What if I could not handle the latter possibility? Her scent was unlike any other. It awakened the beast inside of me, egged on the thirsty monster in my chest, made me want and need the life that pulsed under her transfluent skin. . . .

A burn, stronger than the first few I'd felt in the days she'd been here, consumed my throat and constricted my frozen heart.

I could not harm this girl. This human; this fragile excuse of a . . . time traveler.

I just about laughed out loud to her face at that thought. How absurd! I'd barely begun, after almost an entire century in this "life", to fully accept that I was immortal and would continue to exist on and on as long as the Earth did as well.

Then again, considering it . . . what wasn't real and unimaginable anymore?

Alice beat me to the punch.

"You know how some say . . . 'anything is possible'?"

"Why?" asked Bella suspiciously. I guessed that she didn't like the direction of my sister's words.

She grimaced, ever so slightly, at the human. I doubted that she might have noticed the small crease in Alice's forehead.

Clasping her small hands together, Alice continued. "Well . . . ," she started, staring at her crisscrossed feet. "What do you think about the possibility of foresight?"

"You mean like, seeing the future?"

"Yes."

"So . . . ? Where are you going with this, Ali?"

She visibly flinched at the sound of her seldom-used nickname.

"Alice has the ability to see into the future," I explained quickly. "It isn't quite like all those theories humans have though. It's more so based on decision rather than fate or destiny, if at all that." I frowned. "Or at least, that's what we've discovered so far."

Bella's eyes were wide -- though not with fear, or disbelief; she was fascinated.

"Wow," she let out in an awed whisper, "how does it work? Do you need a crystal ball or anything?" I snickered along with her at the silly joke.

Alice, on the other hand, was not amused. With a delicate huff, she replied with a roll of the eyes and stood. "Hold on a moment." _Getting paper, pen -- I'll show her_, her thoughts growled in a tone of quiet annoyance and determination. I almost laughed.

She shot out the door and was back within not even a full second -- or so it seemed to Bella anyway. She watched the spot where Alice had vanished, and reappeared, with even wider eyes than before.

"Told you we're fast," I gloated, satisfied finally at a reaction.

She shook her head, a little perplexed, but still managed to shoot me a glare before returning her full attention to Alice.

She sat in the middle of the room, pencil in one hand, large notebook in the other, hovering over it as she speedily sketched out the simple image of her vision she'd had about eight minutes previously.

The vision that'd had frozen me in place.

Though meaningful, her drawing didn't quite cover the immense conflict of the entire foresight. I recalled it for quick reference.

_Two others, not of our immediate family (but friends of my brother, Jasper), stand before us in the open space that is our living room. A man and a woman -- Charlotte, white blonde and not quite taller than Alice, and Peter, just as blond but nearly twice as tall. The pair are just about connected, his arm wrapped securely around her upper back as is her arm around his waist, seeming to be worried._

_And, perhaps, guilty?_ Alice had suggested.

_"It's Maria," gushes Peter in a withdrawn voice. "I am so sorry to inflict this sort of thing upon your family" -- his eyes rest for the smallest moment on Bella, whom of which is tight against my side --_

Bella gazed at the drawing of all of us, from Alice's view: the girl and I, close together, with my protective arm around her shoulder; Jasper, Emmett, and Carlisle, staring intently at Peter, with Charlotte at his side; and Rosalie, off to the side, trying her best to look indifferent to the entire situation.

But it is the image of us so tightly bound together that holds Bella's eyes the longest.

_". . . but, as you know, Maria has that tiny tendency to do things her way." Peter's voice becomes bitter towards the end. "She probably wants her," he nods in Bella's direction, "all to herself. No doubt she's seen the possibilities. . . ."_

The vision ended with a fierce snarl, a terrible growl that releases itself from my lips, tearing its way up my throat, and causing the pretty human girl to coil into my side.

_She didn't flinch away_, I marveled, just as I had earlier. _Wasn't repulsed by me._ A foreign feeling rushed through me. I ignored it.

"What is it about?" she whispered. "And who are they?" She pointed softly to the detailed drawing of Charlotte and Peter.

"Friends of Jasper's," Alice answered. "From a long time ago," she added in a quieter tone, dropping the subject.

Bella noticed that her first question went unanswered. "But why are they suddenly here? When does this happen?" She spoke slowly. "Why are we . . . ?" she trailed off, glancing again back at the sketch of us together.

There was a sort of longing in her big brown eyes.

Along with a gleam of sadness. And just a flicker of heartbreak.

"I'm sorry, Bella," I whispered, just loud enough for her to hear, not quite knowing _why_ or _what for_ that I was apologizing.

She started. Her eyes flashed from the paper to mine, and I held her gaze.

Those brown eyes seemed depthless, what with the mystery of her mind.

I wished I knew what she was thinking.

And then I remembered the question that still hadn't been answered.

"They're there, in our home, because . . . ," I paused, unsure if I should continue or not. She continued to look at me, but her head was cocked to the side with a curious expression.

_Go on_, encouraged Alice.

"They're there because they felt that they needed to apologize." I broke our eye contact, staring at the floor. "An old friend of theirs . . . doesn't quite follow the same diet as we do." It was then that I realized we'd never fully explained to Bella that we didn't feed off humans.

Either she didn't think about it, or she really didn't care.

"And what _is_ your diet?" she asked.

Alice piped in before I could answer. "As weird as it sounds, we vampires have morals, if you will believe that. We hunt animals for their blood, instead of humans like you." She smiled warmly.

I gazed at the girl, waiting for some kind of reaction.

It was small, but there -- a hint of a smile. "I figured it was something like that."

I admired her more and more each minute after that.

"Why?" I inquired.

"Because you all are too good. I would have never believed that you would take me in like this and leave me alive this long if you'd planned to kill me anyway. You're much too kind as it is. It just seems . . . impossible."

"You do smell exceptionally more appetizing than the rest of them," I muttered.

She laughed, but it died as quickly as it came. "It's not every day you're told you smell edible." Her tone caught me off guard -- it was wistful, down. Sad.

I smiled grimly. "I didn't mean it that way," I lied.

She snorted, seeing right through me, and I marveled again at how well she seemed to _know_ me.

"So . . . what do we do?" she questioned.

I thought about it for a moment.

_We should take her away, perhaps up to Denali, they'd welcome her._

"Not up in the cold with strangers, Alice," I snapped, trying to be discrete. Still the girl probed me with her intense eyes.

But Bella's eyes widened in realization after a moment. "Alice didn't say anything. . . ." A leery look came into her eyes, narrowing them. "If she can see the future," she uttered slowly, seeming to be talking more to herself than I, "then what . . . what can _you_ do?" Again, those eyes, with their all-knowing gaze, stared into mine. I held back, waiting -- she wasn't finished.

With a gasp, it seemed that she'd figured it out. "Can you read minds?" she whispered.

I hesitated, but answered regardlessly. "Yes. Everyone's . . . but yours." I glared at the wall behind her.

Her eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into her hairline.

"Just mine?"

"Just yours," I nodded.

She shook her head in confusion, marveled. _Marvelous._ "That's amazing," she said hesitantly.

I couldn't help but laugh. "It gets a little annoying sometimes though." I tapped my temple with my forefinger. "Getting into everyone's business."

She thought about that for a second, and then smiled in a slightly pleased way. "I bet that's why you were here. It's quiet, isn't it?"

"Yes," I answered with a grin. "Very much a relief, thank you."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Would it be all right with you two if we got back on track?"

"Of course. Sorry -- "

"Okay, so this is what we'll do," she said quickly, trying to get as much out as possible before I figured it out in her head. She probably thought that Bella would take her side, with whatever her plan's initiative idea was. "Ship you and Edward off in a private plane up to Alaska, where we've got some friends -- I figure if I let them know by today they'll be happy to take you in by around . . . oh, in a few days or so." The vision was blurry; she was frustrated. "I'll only know after I call them but it seems to me that they won't mind much -- "

"_Slow down_," I interrupted. "I'm all for the plan. It's the location that I'm not so ambitious for."

"Where else would you go then?" she challenged.

"Um . . . ," sounded a quiet, clear voice. "I have an idea."

We both stared at the girl intently, waiting, while she concentrated intently on the pillow at her side.

"I'm from Phoenix, and know it well. It would be easy to . . . ," she trailed off again, blushing -- I stiffened, and Alice put a reassuring hand on my forearm. ". . . find a place to settle for however long is necessary." Bella finished in a rush, stuttering slightly.

Why? What embarrassed her?

Again, I wished I could hear her thoughts.

"It might work," said Alice thoughtfully. "Though the sun, Edward . . ."

"I'll survive," I retorted bitterly.

"The sun? Oh, wait, does it . . . burn you or something?" She gasped. "No, no, forget the idea -- "

This girl really didn't know her legends well, did she?

Then again, I had to give her credit. She could 'bend time', after all. Perhaps, though very open-minded, she'd never taken any interest.

"No, it doesn't harm us in any way," I said, keeping it discrete. _Except for, possibly, your ego_, sneered Alice jokingly.

I gave her an exasperated look.

--

By the time we'd finally finished our little discussion, it was after midnight and poor, pretty human girl was completely exhausted. I'd left minutes before she'd fallen asleep, but returned at the sound of a quiet mumble. Instead of sitting at the end of the sofa by her feet, I crouched down near her face, watching the small changes that her dreams inflicted upon it.

Sometimes she would mumble a word or two. Once she said, "No pocket watches," which left me utterly baffled. Another time, she had sighed with a hushed, "Hold me," and that made my hands twitch.

Though towards morning, she whispered, "Edward," and for just the slightest second, my heart seemed to beat again.

And then it nearly broke in half when I remember that I was not the Edward she was dreaming of.

I left when the sun began to rise, casting grey light through the clouds and in through the large window of the room, which gradually became brighter as the hour went on.

I found Jasper at the dining room table, staring at its top.

Odd.

_You know as well as I do what you're feeling right now, Edward._

Well that was sudden. "What is that supposed to mean?"

_Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean._ He turned to look at me with a grin, meeting my astonished expression with another thought. _Are you sure about this? You're falling pretty har --_

I cut him off mid-word. "I'm doing _nothing_," I growled, knowing that I was trying harder to convince myself than him.

He'd abruptly became serious at my tone. _Look_, he thought slowly, _she's human. Breakable. And if anything, a threat. She's very well capable of exposing us, whether it be accident or not --_

"I highly doubt she would _ever_ be _capable_ of that," I said cooly, impeding him again. "Look at what she already is forced to deal with!" I accompanied my shout with a gesture to the stairs. "Being stuck in our time, not sure of how to leave, or if she can. And then to be in a house with five vampires! It's a wonder she hasn't ran away screaming yet." I crossed my arms, sending daggers at Jasper's understanding gaze. I knew he was just being skeptic, and would probably still stick by what he thought, though he would take into account what I was saying. And that was enough. "She's strong, as you've already figured out. But didn't you consider that maybe she has had a secret her _entire life_ as well? I'm quite confident that she can keep ours just as well as we have all these years."

"You know I was only thinking of our family. I wasn't targeting or accusing her, nor placing an argument against her." _It's just that anyone can make a mistake_, he thought. His tone was apologetic, and instantly made me feel almost guilty.

Almost.

The satisfaction of getting my point across overruled any compromise or forgiveness in that moment.

* * *

I'm sorry if you expected a longer chapter . . . well actually, I'm sorry if you expected even an interesting one. I know this didn't let much else new out except for the unexpected vision.  
Speaking of which, the title of the chapter is "vision" in Italian. In case you were wondering.  
Thank you for reading! I'd like to shout out an extra thanks for all my Story Alerters, Favoriters, and Reviewers alike. THANKS! :)


	7. Conflitto

I always forget these darn **disclaimers**: as always, characters are property of Stephenie Meyer. I just came up with the plot. Okay? Okay.

Thank you for the support! I've been able to take some time and write this puppy (while listening to a great Irish rock/alternative band by the name of The Frames -- check 'em out!) but that doesn't mean that Padrone Di Tempo isn't still on hold -- on the contrary: **_story is still on hold_** until further notice.  
Sorry for getting all formal and 'professional' sounding, if you can even call it that.

And here you are with chapter seven! Not much, I know, but hope you enjoy it. :)

* * *

**VII. CONFLITTO**

I stood in a white, endless room. Looking around, I found that it was indeed endless, and, therefore, I was trapped.

But there was a whirl of color, and enormous clocks graced what seemed to be the walls; watches with chains rained down from above me.

I flinched, bringing my hands up above my head and clenching my eyes tight shut, waiting for impact, but none came. Opening my eyes, I was met yet again with the empty, depthless white room. Though in one of my closed fists was a pocket watch.

I sighed at a memory that this watch brought -- I remembered, during my last night with him in his room, grasping for his left wrist, when he'd teased me, _"You of all people should know the_ time_."_

Oh, I missed him.

Suddenly, there was another flash of color, and then there stood my best friend, with the usual cocky grin plastered to her face, feet from me. I stared at her.

"Hi, Bella." I blanched -- that wasn't _my_ Alice's voice. It was . . . vampire Alice's. Musical and harmonic; all silver chimes.

"Hi, Alice." Staring at her blue eyes and pink cheeks made my heart hurt.

Then her features slowly changed, paling to the chalk white I'd come used to, purpling under the eyes as if she hadn't slept in years, and eyes blending from blue to gold -- eyes that had watched just about every move of mine these past few days.

"You need to figure this out," she said. "You need to fix this."

I jumped at her voice -- though her face, her eyes and her hair had transformed . . . her voice had, too, changed.

Changed into the tone I knew best.

I gave her a quizzical look. "And what do you suggest I do?"

She hummed, and looked around. Then she leaned in and whispered in my ear. "Don't ever let him go, Bella," she breathed. "Whatever you do, _don't let him go_."

"What does that -- or supposed -- How do you expect me -- I can't!" I shouted, sputtering. "I can't touch -- I don't want to touch him," I whimpered, feeling utterly defeated. I grasped onto her shoulders and leaned on her. "I can't. It isn't _right_."

Cold hands found my cheeks, and I almost sighed at their comfort. "Stay strong." She brought my gaze down to her level, and I stared back into her dark gold eyes. "Try. Fight. You'll understand."

And then she disappeared the way she came, a jumbled mess of rainbow and then nothing.

It felt as though I were traveling through time again, only forward. When I went back in time, everything behind my eyelids would become a very, very bright white, and then the timeframe, in which I would exit into, would glow darkly and release me.

But when I traveled forward . . . it was all the opposite.

Pitch black, and an eerie, white glow was all I could see for a moment.

It got a little brighter, and blended into another scene. I was back in school, sitting at our lunch table.

The entire cafeteria was empty though, besides that of my table -- and the occupied chair next to me.

_Him._

"I miss you," he said.

I just looked at him. His green eyes were as green as ever, and his crooked nose was just as I remembered it. His hair, messy like usual, was just as long and bronze as I could recall.

But the voice. Again with the voice, just as with Alice . . . it wasn't his.

It was . . . it was _his_, the vampire's.

"I miss you, too," I said quietly, not wanting to watch his face transform as I knew it would. "Hold me." He opened his arms, and I leaned my head against his warm neck, wrapping my arms under his and around his back. He rested his face in my hair, and we didn't move for what seemed to be days.

Hours, or perhaps minutes later, he lifted his head from me and said, "I love you, you know," in _his_ voice. My Edward's.

I was elated.

Suppressing the desire to smile and roll my eyes, I pulled away to answer with my customary, "I know" -- but as soon as I looked at his face, the words ran right back down my throat.

Here sat not the love of my life, but the very vampire that had to fight continuously against the urge to kill me. And he was smiling just as my Edward had at me all these years. And his golden eyes sparkled with mirth, and his skin was cold, and his nose was straight, and none of it bothered me.

"Edward." My voice was just a whisper, and it covered the shock.

And it covered the longing.

--

A shout jolted and snapped me into almost-reality -- more raining pocket watches? or green eyes turning gold? I couldn't quite remember the dreams -- and I frowned without opening my eyes, wanting to block out the light from the window. I squeezed my eyes tighter shut, and felt the stiff, dry tear tracks from when I'd cried earlier. Lifting my hand up to wipe the tears from my cheeks, I shifted, and --

I felt rock-hard, frozen hands resting on either side of my face. Thumbs brushed softly across my cheekbones soothingly.

I opened my eyes in shock.

Edward, intense and immobile, stared into my wide, tired eyes. He kneeled by the couch, almost leaning over me, and looked troubled -- no, he was worried -- and he had a faint crease between his eyebrows. I blinked furiously, my breathing hitching.

"Um . . . ," I began, but I was interrupted by a knock at my door.

The cold hands left my face in a flash, making it burn in confusion and mild-embarrassment. "Come in," I mumbled. Edward stayed by the side of the couch, but turned his face, with a very annoyed expression, toward our company.

Jasper poked his head in with a small smile. "Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," I replied in a raspy voice.

He and Edward chuckled. I noticed an immediate change in Edward in that same minute -- the crease had left his forehead, and he had an easy smile on his lips.

It made me smile. A big, goofy smile.

No matter what, I'd always do anything to see that smile of his -- perfect or otherwise.

"What's so funny?" asked Edward suddenly. Jasper stared at me.

Well, they were the ones that were laughing? Regardless, I tried to explain. "I was just thinking . . . ," I trailed off, hoping he would take the bait.

Just as I'd expected, his eyes lit up with curiosity and his lips puckered, fighting a small smile. "What were you thinking?" he inquired softly.

I waited a moment before answering, trying to make something up, and before I could, Edward huffed, "I don't _care_, Jasper," causing me to twitch in surprise. He still looked at me, and he still spoke to Jazz. "I know what you think. It . . . doesn't change anything." His gold eyes melted as he continued to stare into mine, forming into a sort of liquid topaz. I felt as though my heart might jump out of my chest -- it wasn't beating quickly, but it seemed to be thudding against my ribcage harder than ever before. I resisted the sigh that threatened to blow free of my lips, and I fought against the lethargic, light-headed feeling.

Oh. I wasn't quite breathing.

And he was _still_ watching me.

I gasped in a small puff of air, hoping that my little episode wasn't too noticeable.

Vain hope. Again.

Jasper suddenly chuckled, and mumbled something so quickly that I barely caught some of the words. I guessed that he actually said, _"Won't say I told you so, Edward."_

Whatever that meant. Argh, vampires. With their supernatural speed and captivating . . . eyes. . . .

I refocused my eyes, and Edward's became more clear. "Bella?" he asked, watching me with an amused expression as I tried to collect myself. Waiting. Patient. The usual, with me.

"I . . . ," I couldn't quite remember the question I was answering -- oh, right, what was so funny, what was I thinking about. "Nothing was funny. I was just _happy_," I said slowly with a smile, choosing the silly truth. "I don't really know what it was, but I made you laugh."

"Sorry," he apologized, but didn't elaborate. Instead, he gazed out the giant window.

I rolled my eyes. No surprise there; Edward always did -- _does_ -- pride himself in being . . . mysterious.

With a snort, I threw off my blanket and stood, stretching out my arms and letting out a big yawn. It would do no good to dwell on my Edward. The time was here and now, and what was important was finding a way to make it _back_.

Or forward. Whichever.

So it was better if I put that in the back of my mind. I need to stop thinking about it, because I really couldn't afford a breakdown. I didn't know if I had the time.

"Edward?"

"Yes?" He averted his attention back to me, and the little furrow of his brow was back. My forefinger twitched with the urge to smooth out his skin.

I guessed that he must have noticed the movement, but regardless, he said nothing.

"Would you mind if I fixed myself some breakfast? I'm surprisingly starving -- "

"Erm . . . ," he hesitated, "I'm not entirely sure -- "

A white, blue, and black blur zoomed through my door, and before it had closed, Alice stood before me in a pale navy sweatshirt in her arms.

"Alice knew you'd be hungry when you woke, so she took the liberty of stocking the kitchen," offered Edward.

She threw me a gorgeous smile, full of gleaming white teeth. "And you'll definitely be wanting this," she said, handing me the sweatshirt. "It's ugly, but the house is a little chilly and I don't want to see you shiver."

I smiled. "It's not ugly," I argued, and pulled it over my head. Cozy. I hugged myself. "I like it, thank you."

She rolled her eyes. "Not entirely unpredictable," she huffed to herself, crossing her arms over her chest. Edward laughed at her.

"I'm watching you, Edward," she warned with a glare, her eyes slits. "Always."

"I'm terrified. I really am."

She lifted her chin and rose up to the tips of her toes. "You'd better be," she growled, fighting off a smile.

He couldn't hold himself back, and laughed again, but louder.

I tried to ignore them, fighting off a smile of my own, and piped in, "Well, I'll just head down to the kitchen. . . ."

He immediately sobered up. "I'll accompany you," he offered with a crooked grin. "If you don't mind, that is."

"I do -- it depends on whether or not you can cook."

"No, not well." His lips turned down at the corners. "But you get the idea."

I waited a few seconds, pretending to ponder. "Ah, I forgive you for that. Not everyone is good at everything." I threw in the last comment for his benefit, knowing all too well that a certain someone, just like him, was as close to perfect as anyone could be.

How sappy. My guard was crumbling.

In fact, Edward Masen was never much of a cook either. I remembered when he'd had a culinary arts class with me in his sophomore year -- he'd almost blown up a microwave once, and had also caught the contents in his frying pan on fire on a daily basis, it seemed.

So, no surprise here.

"Come on," I chuckled. He tilted is head to the side, looking off to the side, a little bemused, with his lips pursed. I grabbed his hand instinctively, and, shockingly, he didn't flinch back . . . instead, he gave me a searching look.

I looked back and forth between those gold eyes for about a second before I turned on my heel and lead him down the stairs, his ice-cold hand still in mine.

And then he was promptly at my side, and his fingers were now intertwined with my own. He stared at the stairs ahead of our feet, but I could almost see the lift of his cheek on the other side of his face.

I steadied my breathing. Or, at least, tried.

It was just holding hands, right? Anyone can do that. Without getting excited.

Or being worried.

Apparently, not me. I fought off a smile, remembering a much warmer (and severely sweaty) hand in mine, all those years ago. It'd happened in a similar way to this.

It'd always been easy for me and my Edward -- it was something we kept to ourselves until that night I told him my secret . . . but I knew, so much, long before that that I'd loved him.

It'd been easy, simple, like breathing -- falling in love with him, just like when he'd held my hand --

And as the moment drove me to an epiphany, my foot -- whether of its own accord or not, I was too distracted to know -- slipped on its way down to the other step, toes catching on the other's heel. I flew forward, losing my balance, my arms reaching up reflexively for the plunge.

But there was none. No rush of air through my ears, no impact, no pain to speak of . . .

Instead, my arms rested on his shoulders, and his hands were on my waist, and one ankle was still stuck around the other, and I was pretty much at a horizontal angle.

And his eyes stared into mine, unlike all the times before.

I took a deep breath. "Thanks," I laughed, a little shaken. I looked over his shoulder, and saw that we weren't yet close to the first floor -- that wouldn't have been a nice fall.

"No problem at all," he replied quietly, and I glanced back at his face, which was a mistake: his eyes seemed to, though not entirely _literally_, darken.

I blinked slowly, dazed. Again.

He dipped his head a little, and looked up through his lashes at me. Dark, long lashes -- oh, holy -- "Are you all right?" he asked, interrupting my little realization.

My eyelids continued to blink with deliberate slowness. And then my body did something all on its own, much to my surprise and embarrassment --

I stopped blinking altogether, though still peering into his eyes, and my feet untangled; my arms wrapped around his neck; my head titled to the side; my eyes closed.

And my lips met his hard, ice-cold ones, and it felt as though I was kissing a statue.

But then they, ever so achingly slowly, made a soft movement against mine --

I let my jaw fall a little farther open, and swept the tip of my tongue against the smooth texture of his yielding lips.

With flash, I was all alone on the stairs, and he was gone. My lips and hands tingled from where I'd made contact with his skin.

What had I done? How could I even _think_ it would be okay?

That was just it -- I _wasn't thinking_.

I was such an idiot.

But standing here wasn't helping anything, wasn't figuring it out. I knew something hadn't been right to him.

As I walked up the stairs, it felt slow and farther away than it'd seemed to be only minutes ago.

I stared Edward's doorknob, trying to ignore my internal conflict -- two forces fighting for dominance, back and forth -- the urge to run, and the urge to stay. "Edward? Are you in here?" I knocked on his door tentatively.

"I'm sorry about what happened on the stairs," I whispered, knowing well enough that he could hear me. "I don't . . . know why I did that. I didn't know what I was doing." My voice cracked.

I saw the knob turn, and I closed my eyes, trying to keep myself in check -- I wasn't going to look him in the eye unless completely necessary.

Losing concentration was not the way to go. And with even a glance at his face, my thought process would end up completely muddled.

I felt cold breath by my ear, a smoothly whispered, "_I_ should be the one to apologize." I shook my head, and then noticed the absence of his quiet breathing. Opening my eyes, I found his to be closed.

Damn.

"Why." It came out flat -- not entirely a question.

He rocked back once on his heels, and ducked his head. "That was cruel of me, to encourage you and then abruptly leave you lost like I did. I was just afraid of . . . ," he trailed off.

My hand raised up to hold his chin, and lifted it. His eyelids slowly slid up, showing me his gold irises and the sorrow in them. "I could hurt you so easily, Bella."

I didn't lower my hand.

"It would be so quick, and simply fatal, were I to let myself go for even a second." Cold fingers brushed across my cheek, and then fell back to his side. "To bask in the . . . the fragrance, the _flavor_." He grimaced. "As if you're a _snack_ I'm not supposed to have," he joked with a sad grin.

I let my head fall back, a giggle bubbling its way out of my throat.

"I could never let my self-control falter like that. I'd never forgive myself, if for even one second, that became a possibility -- hurting you." I sobered up immediately.

"It's okay," was all I could whisper in response. I dragged my hand to the back of his neck, wrapping my arm around him, and raised myself, hugging him tight.

Wow, he was _hard_. It was so . . . so . . . intriguing. Cold and hard as stone.

With deliberate slowness, his arms snaked around me, and gently squeezed me back. "It isn't, Bella," he breathed. "Not even close."


	8. Notizie

**Disclaime****r:** plot is my idea, everything else is owned by Stephenie Meyer. Of course.

Ummm, I've found time in my _extremely busy schedule_ (yes I'm being sarcastic haha) and wrote all this while listening to New Found Glory and the Eagles -- weird combo, I know!  
Well, though as short as it is, this is where the plot thickens...oho, I hope you like it. I've got a lot in store for later chapters! Though I'm sorry to say, again, that **this story is STILL on HOLD**. Until further notice.

* * *

**IIX. NOTIZIE**

"How long did you live in Phoenix for?"

I looked up from the small pile of folded clothes in front of me and thought for a moment. "Well, it'd been off and on until the last few years or so." I reached across Edward for the piles of clothes Alice had left for me, and he extracted a random, ugly yellow shirt from one of the heaps. "After I started high school, I decided that I'd stay in Forks for the entire summer instead of staying with my mom down in Phoenix like I would usually." I tried to fold the shirt's sleeves on their creases but it was proving too difficult for me and my embarrassment; the only reason I'd decided to neglect my mother was because I'd chosen Edward Masen over her.

Vampire Edward decided to fold the mustard-colored shirt for me so I could focus on my rambling mouth.

"What's your mother like?" he asked.

I started color-coding the folded clothes while I described my best friend. "She's eccentric, spontaneous, and much more outgoing than I am; she always has to try something new. She looks a lot like me, but prettier -- "

He sniffed, in what sounded like disapproval, and I tried to ignore him.

" . . . remarried to this minor-league player, Phil, and . . . I remember this one time." I started to laugh at the memory. "My mom is very daring, actually, and she decided that she wanted to go out on some sort of an adventure -- she wanted to rock climb." I shook my head. "To prepare, she went to some indoor rock wall and" -- I let out a chuckle -- "she gets ten feet up, looks down, and starts panicking and screaming for someone to get her _'off this thing!'_"

He let out a burst of laughter, his hand coming up to cover his smiling mouth.

"She never really sticks with anything anyway, but at least she knows now not to try anything that'll take her feet too far off the ground." I found a lone sock and started to subconsciously pick off its lint. "I'm just glad she didn't drag me along."

"And why is that?" He cleared his throat pointedly and tried to cover a laugh with a cough.

Vampires don't need to cough.

I rolled my eyes. "You should know," I said. "After this morning -- "

He smiled.

I looked down at the sock and felt my cheeks burn. Again.

I heard the door close, and I knew I was alone.

"Sorry," I mumbled in defeat.

After sorting through the rest of the piles of clothes (and making sure to put the disgusting yellow shirt back _into_ one of the piles), I stuffed all that Alice had given me into a suitcase. I even had to sit on it, and barely still got the zippers to meet.

"You have _way_ too many clothes, Alice," I complained aloud.

I stood up and dragged the suitcase near the door, and then made my way to the huge window.

"Really, Edward, I . . . if that was uncomfortable for you because of the subject or the . . . well, I don't know what to say, really." I crossed my arms, leaned my forehead against the cool glass, closed my eyes, and sighed. "I'm sorry to cause you so much trouble -- putting you in so much pain, and then you're leaving your family and putting yourself at risk and . . . ," I trailed off. "I'm sorry," I said again.

I felt two ice-cold arms wrap themselves around my shoulders. "Don't be," he whispered. "None of this -- _nothing_ -- is your fault. Please don't blame yourself." I felt his cool breath on the side of my neck, and fought back a shiver. "I'm trying to fight back, and I don't mind. At all. I just . . . didn't know if I was strong enough."

"Strong enough?" I echoed in a whisper.

"Again, whether or not I could keep from hurting you."

I didn't move. "I understand. But why . . . why is it okay for you to be near me now?"

"Mind over matter." His nose skimmed the nape of my neck, inhaling deeply. "The more I'm around you, the more detoxicated I become. But certain things . . . " His lips pressed lightly to the sensitive skin beneath my ear, and this time, I couldn't stop the shiver it brought. "Certain things catch me off guard."

"I'd make it easier if I could."

"Well, then, the only way to do that would be to have you out of reach." He tightened his hold on me, and breathed into my ear, "And I won't be having that."

"Why the sudden change?" I wanted to turn around and face him, but I didn't think that would be okay right now.

He chuckled. "Again, mind over matter. I . . . considered some probable possibilities, thought things through. And I decided to try."

"Try?"

"Yes. _Try_. Try to be something other than a monster," he growled. "Try to be something worthy of you."

I could feel the tears coming on.

He was doing all of this for me, and I couldn't give him anything in return -- not even my heart . . . because it was still in the hands of a boy that was six years ahead in another dimension.

Why did he have to be so similar to my own Edward? It was like I was falling all over again.

Except I wasn't some love struck fourteen year old like last time -- I was seventeen, and I'd grown to love my boyfriend in many more ways as the years went on. I'd learned so much in those three years.

Would this be wrong? To love another, who is so much alike the one I've loved all along?

It didn't feel like betrayal, but it sounded a lot like it.

I unfolded my arms and brought my hands up to grip his forearms, hugging him back. "I don't know how I could ever thank you, for any of this."

He nuzzled my neck once more before releasing me, all except for my hand. "We'll be having visitors in a while," he said as we walked to the door. He lifted the suitcase by the handle, and asked, "Do you mind meeting Emmett and Rosalie?"

I nodded, already feeling awkward -- when I'd first met Emmett, we'd clicked easily and smoothly, and he was like another brother to me, just as with Jasper . . . but, well, Rosalie, on the other hand . . .

Let's just say we never had gotten along until she'd found Emmett, and it had taken her years to find him.

--

Of course I tripped on the very last step of the staircase.

My karma is horrible.

But Edward was there, and I didn't even begin to fall before I felt his other arm around me.

Probably all thanks to Alice. I fought back smile.

"I'm Emmett." The voice came from the kitchen, and it sounded so familiar -- deep, loud, and easygoing; he emerged a second later with Rosalie on his arm. "Well, we finally meet at last. I've heard a load about you in the last hour, and I've got to say, I'm happy to finally meet the famous Bella Swan," he announced.

Wow, I'd always found my Rosalie to be especially gorgeous and my Emmett to be exceptionally handsome and muscular, but damn! All the little faults that I could remember them having were fixed to perfection in this dimension.

Rosalie introduced herself, in more of a warm tone than I had expected, and didn't release herself from Emmett.

Esme and Carlisle followed suit just a few seconds later, exiting the kitchen and joining us in their living room.

"They'll be here in sixty-seconds," came Alice's voice from behind Edward and me. Her and Jasper descended the stairs at a dangerous speed, and found their places -- Alice stayed near the stairs, and Jasper joined Carlisle and Emmett towards the door. Rosalie left Emmett and decided to go back near the kitchen doors and stare intently at her fingernails.

Edward's hand left mine and instead rested on my other shoulder, pulling me close to his side; I leaned my head into him, and waited.

And then, after just less than a minute, everyone seemed to tense up and stare at the door, Rosalie included.

There was a faint knock on the door. Carlisle took two steps and upon reaching the door, opened it and let in their guests.

Two very pretty people walked through to doorway -- the girl, small and white blonde, clinging to the man at her side, who was also blond and almost twice the girl's height.

They were practically glued together.

_Charlotte and Peter_, I thought.

"Carlisle," sang Charlotte in a soft monotone. "It's nice to see you again, but I'm afraid we aren't here for a visit." Her sinister, dark-red eyes flashed to Alice, and her lips rose slowly into a small smile. "As you've probably been told?"

Alice nodded, smiling back. "Indeed. I only found out last night -- I'm guessing this is very sudden?"

"And urgent," agreed Peter, his voice reserved and low. "Your family is in danger."

"Why?" Jasper asked. I looked up to Edward to see if he would intervene, but his lips were pressed into a tight line and he didn't take his eyes off the couple.

Peter looked down to Charlotte for reassurance, and she nodded. "We've been hearing things," she stated. "Time travel, scandals, those sort of things."

I heard Edward take in a deep, irritated breath. "From whom?" he asked Peter in a flat voice, and it sounded like he knew fully well knew who it was.

"It's Maria. I am so sorry to inflict this sort of thing upon your family." His red eyes met mine for a second and I stared at him. I leaned farther into Edward, and his gaze returned back to Carlisle. "But as you know," he continued, "Maria has that tiny tendency to do things her way. She probably wants her," he tilted his head towards me, "all to herself. No doubt she's seen the possibilities."

I felt a rumble in my ear and then it abruptly turned into a horrible snarl -- it clawed its way out of Edward's throat and terrified me, but I didn't turn away.

Peter blinked a few times and continued. "She found us a few weeks ago, trying to reason with us -- only God knows why," he added bitterly. "She wouldn't elaborate fully, except for mentioning that she wanted us to help her with something -- as if either of us _would_ agree to that -- after she went back and changed a few things in the past, that is."

I gulped. _What in the world -- ?_

"She spoke of some human -- oh, Peter, what was his name?" Charlotte stopped mid-sentence, forgetful. He shrugged his shoulders. "You don't recall? Neither do I -- I don't think she mentioned it actually . . ."

"No, she didn't," murmured Edward. I looked up at him, and his eyes were wide. He met my scrutiny with an open mouth -- he said nothing. Surprised.

Charlotte didn't notice our exchange. "But regardless -- some human, she said. Called him a Padrone, whatever that is -- "

I gasped, and started to choke.

" -- and all she said was that she was going to take care of a few things with the use of him. Apparently, he thinks he's in love with her." She shook her head. "Poor thing. She'll probably kill him the second she's satisfied and done with her schemes -- well, after she gets ahold of this one." She looked pointedly at me, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. "'More power,' she said. I don't really understand, though."

"Edward. I-I thought you said," I coughed out, "that she was a concern because she feeds off humans?"

He again tightened his arm around me, looked at my face, and whispered, "No. We weren't entirely sure why . . . ," he trailed off, staring into my eyes.

I could read the regret in them. I looked away to Alice.

"What will we do?" I asked her. "Are we still going to -- "

"I think that would be the best idea," she answered. I blinked slowly, fighting off the thought of it all.

Peter looked back and forth between us. "You've decided to do something about it?"

"Yes," Edward confirmed. "Run away." Peter nodded in understanding.

"What are you?" asked Charlotte swiftly. "Why do you think Maria wants you? You seem just like another human."

Edward let out a quiet snarl.

I gulped again, trying to swallow the anxiety. "I'm a Padrone," I whispered.

Both her and Peter blanched. "Oh, my," she said. "What -- "

"Thank you both for your concern, we will take everything else from here," said Edward foully. "Please, leave."

Charlotte continued to stare at me with those surprised, burgundy eyes while Peter answered him with a regretful, "Once more, we're very sorry. Best of luck to you all." She dipped her head in my direction, a sad gleam in her wide eyes.

And then they turned and walked out the door together.

I started to shiver. Edward rubbed his hand up and down my arm, and I felt his cool lips brush against my temple.

"Are we leaving?"

He didn't answer me -- he spoke to his family. "We're ready to go. I just . . . I will miss you all while we're gone."

"Thank you for everything," I whispered.

Esme walked over to us and placed a hand against Edward's cheek. "I'll miss you, son. It feels as though I just got you back, but now. . . ." Her voice died out and her eyes crinkled with her frown.

"And you, dear," she said quietly. She hugged me, and I had to blink furiously against the tears. She returned my watery smile and walked fluidly to the kitchen, Edward's eyes trained after her.

"Stay safe," said Carlisle. He gripped either one of our shoulders and squeezed gently, then followed behind Esme.

Rosalie walked over to Emmett, and with eyes downcast, gave us a brusque farewell wave.

"It was an intriguing experience, having you around -- both of you, actually," Jasper said with a smile. "Be careful, brother."

"Yeah," agreed Emmett, "you've got a human on your belt, you gotta watch out for the both of you. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." He winked.

Edward rolled his eyes as he and Rosalie made their way around us to the stairs.

Suddenly, Alice was at Edward's side. She leapt up and wrapped herself around him, hugging him tight.

"Good-bye, Alice; I know."

She kept her eyes on me -- as were his eyes on her, a puzzled look forming itself onto his face -- as she released him, and abruptly threw herself at me. I tried to hug her back, but I didn't get the chance. I felt her stick something into the back pocket of my jeans, and then give me a quick pointed look as she said, "And don't do anything that_ I _wouldn't do." With a quick smile, she danced a few steps over to Jasper, and they saw us out the door.

And when the door closed, the tears overflowed. "I'm going to miss them, too, you know."

He didn't say anything, just kept a grim, neutral look on his face as he opened the passenger door to his Volvo (how eerie is that, he also has a Volvo . . .) for me.

As he sat himself into the driver's seat, I buckled my seatbelt into place; with deliberate slowness, he put the key in the ignition and closed his door.

I felt like apologizing again, but I knew he wouldn't like it. Instead, I twisted my body so that I faced the passenger window.

His hand found mine within a second, and I squeezed it.

"I'll fix this, one way or another. I have to; I promise you."

* * *

For those of you who are wondering, the chapter title means "News" in Italian. ;D  
And don't hesitate to tell me what you thought! Reviews are greatly appreciated, thank you -- though you don't have to if you don't want to.


	9. Scopo

I'll tell you my little plan before I let you onto the chapter: I write two chapters in Bella's point of view, one in Edward's, and so on - a little pattern of sorts, if you will.

**Disclaimer:** Stephenie Meyer owns the characters and Twilight and you know the drill.

_

* * *

_

**IX. SCOPO**

_You'd better know exactly what you're doing,_ growled Rosalie in my head. She sauntered over to my brother with her eyes at the floor. _Honestly, if anything happens to her . . . I just know I won't be capable of handling anyone's remorse, especially yours. . . . She's a sweet girl, Edward._ And she raised her hand with a little flick of her fingers, trying to be nonchalant.

Like she didn't care. Ah, Rose and her transparent indifference.

"It was an intriguing experience, having you around -- both of you, actually," said Jasper. _Even with the unexpected guest, having you back really put a lighter touch to everything._ He smiled. "Be careful, brother."_ I believe you both will make it through fine._

I could feel her through him, in the back of his mind, feeling for me -- it was a fearful worry, but there was also this strong sense of trust and a touch of admiration.

Emmett decided to add in his two sense. "Yeah, you've got a human on your belt, you gotta watch out for the both of you." _Which you probably won't have any trouble with_, he added with a mental snicker. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said suggestively with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. _No, really, bro -- stay safe, _he thought as he walked by with Rosalie.

Alice made her way over, the last of the farewells.

_It's all a bit fuzzy, I can't seem to make anything clear; I'll call with whatever I can find out as soon as I _do_. Don't forget, she's human and she has a lot of human needs! _She let out a laugh in my head, and leapt up at my side to hug me around the shoulders. _But since you can't really read her mind, _you_ mustn't forget about the little things._

"Good-bye, Alice; I know."

_You'd better -- now, don't do anything rash, I know it'll just about kill you if you come even a tenth as close as you've come already to drinking her dry. We won't be there to help, or stop you._

_But I trust you._

And then suddenly . . . it was as if she'd tuned into a radio station inside her mind -- well actually, the more I focused, the more stations there seemed to be. As I tried to clear around the noise, it increased, first with classical music and then escalating to multiple screaming voices about -- oh, Lord, Alice was going to the extremes with this. I ignored the yelling and vulgarity of the songs in her head as I attempted to maneuver my way around the profane commotion.

What was she hiding?

She released me and jumped at Bella, giving her a quick embrace and peculiar look.

Still, the uproar continued in her head.

Alice had done well while I was away -- become the best multitasker I've ever known.

"And don't do anything that_ I _wouldn't do," she advised Bella with a playful smile. I watched her waltz smoothly over to Jasper, still keeping that tab on that profound noise in her head.

And as they saw us out the door, she winked.

_Alice!_ I wanted to shout in exasperation.

But the door closed before I could do anything of the sort, and I turned my attention back to Bella, who I found in tears. "I'm going to miss them, too, you know." I didn't reply, though I should have nodded -- or, _somehow_, acknowledged her words.

But I kept my face as blank as possible. I still wanted to figure out what exactly my sister had been trying to keep from me.

What could it be? I thought back to earlier today, trying to remember if I'd heard anything from anyone . . . especially my secretive sister . . . but I never really caught anything worth importance.

Then again, maybe this was for the best. Perhaps I shouldn't know.

They've always told me I worry too much.

Or, at least, they'd made it clear in their minds when they were annoyed with my little antics and such, all those years ago.

I resisted a snort (because those were almost entirely their words, not mine), it really didn't fit with the mood today.

While I slipped the key slowly into the ignition, I started pondering about the look she'd given Bella, and the warning that was uncannily similar to Emmett's -- _"Don't do anything that _I _wouldn't do."_ What on Earth had she meant by that? What could this human possibly do that may not be in Alice's favor or best interest?

After all, she could get a fuzzy outline with even the smallest indecision . . . had she actually seen something today?

My mind was jumbled, what with everyone (with the exception of Bella, of course) thinking their own thoughts too.

I wished Alice would just stop with the racket; it was already hard enough to think, what with all the usual voices.

I closed the door and turned the key, awakening the engine.

Bella jerked slightly and faced herself away from me, gazing out the window. I grabbed her hand, hoping to convey everything that I wouldn't put into words.

Her fingers twitched at my touch, and gripped my hand back shakily.

"I'll fix this, one way or another. I have to; I promise you."

Her little fingers squeezed mine back as hard as was possible.

Though it wasn't until we were on the stretch of highway that she nodded sadly and whispered, "I still won't ever _see them_ again."

I let that sink in for a moment, and then --

"Or you, either," she breathed brokenly.

Moving my foot over the brake, I eased the Volvo to a snail's pace and then pulled over to the side of the road, cutting off the engine as I did so. "Come here," I said with open arms. She unbuckled her seatbelt as she twisted towards me, and then flung herself into my arms when she was finally free. I smoothed out her hair as she breathed in and out into my neck, her little hands clinging to my shoulder blades. "It will be for the best, you know."

She pulled back instantly and met my eyes with a furious glare. "How dare you think that?" she asked scathingly.

"I'm not yours," I replied, shrugging nonchalantly.

Rolling her eyes, she leaned down to place her ear against my chest. "In many ways, you aren't."

I started to nod in melancholy agreement.

"But then . . . ," she continued slowly, raising her head back up to stare into my eyes again, "in many _more_ ways, you _are_."

My chin froze mid-nod.

_What?_

"I don't know _how_ many times I've forgotten that your heart doesn't beat, or that you're as cold as stone, or that you _aren't_ just three months older than me . . ." she trailed off with a small smile. "Well, _technically_, it's two months and three weeks, because you're _so punctilious_" -- she rolled her eyes again -- "and one for _such_ precision and -- "

I didn't let her finish her silly, wonderful mocking -- I'd pressed my lips softly against her cheek.

The warmth . . . it was _lovely_. It left me breathless, feeling flighty and free and --

Her hands glided up to rest on the back of my neck, and she brushed her lips against my ear with a whispered, "Especially that."

"Hm?"

"No matter how different . . . you're just the_ same_." She sighed out a small chuckle. "It's so difficult."

She wouldn't pull away so that I could look at her, so I just asked, "What do you mean?"

"It's difficult because I don't want to accept it, or think about it."

"Why?"

"It isn't about _me_, Edward -- though horrible as it is, it'll be okay for me when I leave you, because I already _have you_ -- so it's about you . . . when I leave. I know that you want me. I want you, too -- because you're you." She pulled back at last, and looked me straight in the eye. "But we can't _be this_,because it isn't supposed to _be_ this way, I'm not supposed to _be_ here! And I'm afraid if I go back far enough to prevent _him_ being attacked . . . that means that I'll never need to go back in the first place, and then this will have never existed, never happened. Though not to me." Her eyes fluttered closed. "It's all so complicated, time travel," she scoffed. "Paradoxes. Ugh. The whole nine yards."

I let out a laugh.

"But, it's all so easy -- easy to change things, to mangle and then fix them the way that I want. I . . . don't like it. . . . I _hate_ being what I am, because I'm someone who can fix all my regrets, all my stupid decisions made in the past. Where would that get me though? I'd live with the memories that no longer exist, with the consequences of what no longer happened, of what caused me to grow and learn and decide. If I go back to alter what I want, something that went wrong -- might I regret _that_ later? How should I be able to do anything?" She hung her head. "I shouldn't exist."

Fury immediately boiled up inside me, and I said, "How dare you think that?" echoing her earlier words.

"What?" she whispered.

"Of course you should exist."

Her brow puckered at my words, and she said, "It isn't right -- "

"Then neither should I."

"What?"

"I shouldn't exist."

"Wait a second, that isn't -- "

I shook my head, and she swallowed her words. "Can we go somewhere?"

"Sure," she said quietly, and crawled back to her seat.

"Well . . . could we walk?"

She nodded as she opened her door.

We crossed the highway over to the even landscape full of trees. I held back branches for her and watched her (unnecessary though it was) anxiously as she clambered over fallen logs after me. Then, after a few moments of consideration and false security on my part, some kind of cruel karma seemed to catch up and her foot caught on a small tree root -- she stumbled, hands forward even before she began to fall, and I steadied her with an arm around her.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"Fine. Thanks." She braced herself and then, to my amusement, jutted her chin up and out and stalked ahead, leading the way. I laughed quietly, and I saw her turn to glare at me.

"So why shouldn't you exist," she said flatly as she sat on a mossy old log, patting the spot beside her.

I didn't sit, and thought for a second before answering. "I'm not human." Simple as that.

"That's a stupid excuse. Look at you." She grinned. "You're _practically_ human?"

"It's my nature to kill them. How should that justify my existence?"

"Because you _don't_ kill," she pointed out calmly, having not flinched at my blunt statement.

"I did."

"Really?" She was intrigued.

I felt uncomfortable. "Yes . . . I did. I drank human blood for a while."

"Everyone has skeletons in their closet," she said slyly.

"Not literally, though, like I do."

She barked out a surprised laugh. "Seriously?"

"Well, no, but -- "

"But, nothing," she said. "Tell me something -- why did you stop?"

"Shouldn't the question be, 'Why _didn't_ you stop?'"

She didn't answer.

"I never killed innocents," I said reluctantly.

"Innocents?"

I tapped my temple with a forefinger. "I filtered and sought out the ones that I thought deserved punishment."

She shivered._ Finally, a reaction._

"But even that wasn't completely satisfactory. Guilt followed me everywhere, and my throat still burned -- it wasn't much like I was doing anyone a complete favor."

"It was the best you could do," she mumbled in support, and grabbed my hand. I could just notice her pulling me to her, so I tried to let her lead me.

She made me sit next to her.

"Your throat burns?" Her eyes were wide.

"Especially when I'm very thirsty. And animal blood doesn't fully help, it just eases the pain, the craving."

She winced. "I doubt I'm much help _at all_."

"No," I agreed, "but I get by."

Her smile was reassuring. "Well," she said, "if it makes you feel any better . . . I don't hold any of it against you."

I shook my head and chuckled. "We should be on our way."

"Yeah." She lead the way out of the trees, and was sure to check both ways before she crossed the white and yellow lines back to the car.

--

Besides her gentle snoring and the rhythmic _thump-thump_ing of her heart, the car was very quiet. An occasional thought from a passerby on the street or from a driver in the other lane would catch my attention, but they were never quite interesting enough to hold onto. I would only catch the tone of their thoughts, and with the first few words, decidedly ignored them.

As the sky started to brighten, I began to silently panic. Arizona. What kind of imbecile was I? The sun would be high in the sky in the next hour, and here I was . . .

"Bella," I whispered. "Bella, wake up."

She stirred sleepily and mumbled, "Can't we be tardy today, Edward . . . ?"

I chuckled. "Not today, love, I'm sorry -- we just can't afford to be."

A light snore informed me of her stubborn need to sleep, so I turned off at the first exit and drove my way through a small city that was just thiry or so miles over the California border, finding a nice hotel to check into. In no more than ten minutes I had a suite with two queens, complete with a kitchen and a built-in jacuzzi -- even though it had been booked weeks before. "Thank you," I said smoothly.

The lady at the front desk stared for a moment, and her thought process was entirely blank for three seconds. _Oh . . . But the . . . husband. . . . Gerry? George . . . ?_ "Y-you're welcome, Mr. C-cullen, enjoy y-your night," she stuttered. I flashed a small smile and made my way back to the Volvo as the sun started to rise.

Hurry hurry hurry.

"Hey. Morning, sleepy-head. Can you walk?"

She breathed in deeply and let out a sigh, but did nothing else.

I shrugged, and placed one arm under her knees and the other under her ribcage, and carried her to the room.

I laid her down, and it was hours until she moved again -- she rolled over, sighed, and quietly said, "Come back to bed . . ."

Shaking my head, I placed myself on the very edge of the mattress and brushed the hair from her forehead. "I highly doubt you'd like to crawl up next to me," I joked in a whisper.

Her eyes fluttered open and then closed, and then she sat up very abruptly, wrapping her arms around me. Her fingers played at the hem of my shirt; she hummed.

My eyes involuntarily closed, and then snapped back open as I felt her hands creep up my back.

I cleared my throat, and then was slapped in the face by her scent. _Ouch._ My throat burned and the monster in my chest roared and I was extremely aware of the venom in my mouth.

"I'm -- sorry," I choked out as I ripped myself from her, and she almost fell face-first onto the floor but caught herself.

"Wha -- ?" she gasped, disoriented. "Where -- ?" Then she caught sight of me, pressed against the hotel door, frozen and not breathing. "Oh, my God, Edward, I'm sorry, so sor -- "

"No, don't be," I rasped out, using the last of my air. Not very comfortable, that.

She stood up, excruciatingly slow, and moved to the window. "Will opening this help?" She pointed to the window.

I raised my eyebrows and gave her a _"I hope so, try it"_ shrug of the shoulders.

She pulled back the curtains and, after struggling with the latch for a second, she slid the old window over to the side and let in a cool wisp of the night air. I moved over next to her, an inch away from the screen.

"I slept for a long time." She was a little surprised, and quiet.

I nodded and took a breath.

I could still smell her, but it wasn't nearly as constrictively painful to my throat. I reveled in the faint scent.

And then I caught another among the many, that stood out above them all -- different, not at all as appealing, bitter and daisy and basil --

Not _human_: Vaguely familiar, and as I thought about it, the memory came back to me instantaneously . . .

_Calgary, Alberta, Canada, 1963. Three fifty-seven in the afternoon._

_"Jasper," she purrs "It had been too long, too long . . ."_

_"That is no excuse. It was unacceptable, and now you have corrupted my family's way of life -- we must leave."_

_Her brow furrows, and she tilts her head to the side. Curious. "And why is that?"_

_"Maria . . . ," Jasper sighs. "You aren't serious?"_

_A laugh escapes her, full of mirth, and she thinks, _You haven't changed, have you?_ "I know the last time we saw each other -- "_

_"Wasn't a very pleasant time, yes," he interrupts._

Tsk, tsk,_ she thinks. She shakes her head and speaks aloud, "Now, could we just be more civilized and _discuss_ what happened -- "_

_"There is nothing to discuss," he says calmly. "Please, if we could both be mature about this -- leave."_

_She shakes her head once more, her dark brown hair flowing around her face. "But there is much to discuss. I finally found you, and I know I made a small mistake in the process but I have been searching for years, Jasper. I've needed to speak to you for so long. Won't you sit down and let me talk?"_

_"No." And it's forceful and loud and feminine. Alice._

_"Excuse me? Little girl?"_

_"Please. Leave."_

_She looks taken aback but doesn't say anything else._

_"I'm sorry, Maria, but it is all in the past. And we can't relive any of it and can't change any of it, and I wouldn't ever want to." He glances at Alice._

_Still, Maria is silent._

_But her thoughts . . . are something I would never voice aloud to my family, Jasper above all._

Who would have thought any self-respecting vampire could stoop so low? Perhaps that is it -- he has lost all sense and purpose for this kind of life. I suppose it was to be expected, though I am surprised.

_And she leaves without a good-bye._

"Come with me," I said. Bella looked at me, a little shocked at my soft, stressed tone, and grabbed at my hand. I returned the slightest of pressure, grabbed the hotel-provided ball-point pen and paper, and lead her to the small bathroom.

I wrote fast and roughly:

**Whatever happens, know that you need to save YOURSELF. Pull yourself back or forward in time or whatever it takes. Do NOT risk ANYTHING. I caught Maria's scent. She knows we are here. Don't do anything rash now, do not speak.**

She read the words as quickly as she could, though it didn't seem fast at all to me. With a slightly trembling hand, she took the pen from me and wrote in slanted writing,

**I'm not leaving you.**

**You need to, if anything happens**, I wrote.

**I will do whatever it takes to save us BOTH.**

I sighed, and took back the pen.

**PROMISE me you will go, no matter WHAT happens.**

She frowned and wrote, **Don't be stupid I am NOT going to just leave you.**

**You may have to. And I need you to, if it comes to that.**

**If something happens if ANYTHING happens to you then that changes things it will change EVERYTHING and I won't let that happen I'm not going to let anything hurt you because I won't be able to live with myself if I do.**

**NO, BELLA**, I wrote.

**TOO LATE. WHATEVER IT TAKES****.**

I glared at her, shaking my head.

She had tears in her eyes. "Please," she mouthed silently. And then she stole the paper up from the counter and hid it from me, writing something.

And she folded it.

And then handed it to me.

**I can't lose you no matter what time it is I will always love you Edward.**

I stared at the last six words. At the way she wrote her "a"s; the way the word "always" was deeply pressed into the paper; the way she drew out my name, each letter connected, squiggled cursive, but smooth and familiarized.

"Come on," I whispered. I opened the small window above the toilet in the bathroom and motioned to it. She buried her head in her hands and breathed in slowly and deeply for about fifteen seconds, then collected herself and let me help her onto the counter and out the window. Once we were on the roof, I had her scramble onto my back, and I leapt onto the ground, smoothly and silently.

_That's right, Cullen. Run. I won't chase you, I can't afford to hurt your little Padrone. But I _will_ find you again. And it won't be difficult._

Then she started thinking nonsense, math equations and multiplication of random, pointless numbers; I shook Maria out of my head and pushed myself harder, putting as much distance as I could between that monster and the girl on my back.

We made it to the border between California and Arizona before I finally stopped. I could tell Bella was on the brink of exhaustion from holding on for those few hours.

I apologized and let her down, and then steadied her as we walked into the nearest convenience store.

"Bella?"

"Hm?"

I bent down to her level, and asked, "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah," she said clearly.

"You're sure?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Because: I love you, too."

* * *

**A/N:** Here's a long note.  
I winged it on the Maria story. I know that Alice and Jasper joined the Cullens around 1950ish so I figured '63 was a good year to use when I improvised. Midnight Sun was a big help with that.  
For those of you who are curious, the chapter title means "purpose" in Italian.  
Also! many, many apologies for this story being on hold. It's better than just ignoring it (though heck, it's not much of a difference, is it?) and while I'm not posting, I am piecing together little bits of the story so that when I do find the inspiration - it isn't that I don't have the time; I blame writer's block on this - I can write easier.  
STORY IS **STILL ON HOLD** UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE. It's crazy, and it's almost a year old, but it's what I need to do. And I hope you all understand.  
Thank you ALL for sticking with this story! Every little bit counts - just as long as I know people are stopping by to read, it makes it all the more worth getting my ideas out. And a little shout out to Luellas Joy for reviewing every chapter she read - it's just that I couldn't reply and thank you personally for the wonderful input, so here I am. _Thanks!_


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